


Good To You

by Baykenz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Boys Kissing, Boys doing the sex, But also they’re idiots, Castiel and Dean Winchester Being Idiots, Coitus Interruptus, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester Use Their Words, Dean Winchester's Freckles, Dean doesn’t do vulnerable, Drunk Winchesters (Supernatural), Except maybe for Cas, Finally, First Dates, First Time, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Jess is the Best, M/M, Military Dean Winchester, No seriously...finally!, Phone Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Principal Castiel, Sexy Times, She Doesn’t Even Go Here, Texts From Last Night, Trapped In Elevator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-05-10 09:38:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 75,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14734523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baykenz/pseuds/Baykenz
Summary: Dean Winchester is a socially awkward and somewhat damaged ex-marine. Castiel Novak is an overly friendly high school principal everyone seems to love.**Through all of your scars, I will be good to you. Because of my struggle, I would always be good to you.**





	1. Just Like Starting Over

_“Alright back there, Winchester!” The laughing voice of Benjamin Lafitte floated back to him from ahead and Dean doubled over, hands on his knees, in an effort not to be sick all over himself._

_“Piss off, Benny! If this is payback for kicking your ass at cups, I hate you!”_

_Heat drifted up from the sand in waves, scorched under the Iraqi sun as the two men ran the perimeter of base camp in an effort to beat a few more minutes off the slow moving clock. It’d been a quiet week, anywhere else in the world that would have been a good thing. Not here. Everyone was on edge and sometimes the guys had to get a little creative to cut the nerves. Such as this sadistic obstacle course Dean’s squad had come up with as a way to show who was 'boss'._

_“I can’t believe what a pussy you are, brother!” Benny crowed, jogging backwards with a smug grin plastered over his face._

_“Fuck you, man! Still your superior. You get--ugh--john duty tonight!” Dean heaved himself over the stack of crates separating him from the other man and attempted to racket his speed up enough to catch up. So what if he lost this stupid race, seeing Lafitte with his hand shoved down the shitter working out a clog might be worth the humiliation. “Lucky.”_

_“Lucky my ass! You suck.” Dean stumbled to a halt and waved his hands, admitting defeat._

_“Your mom!” Dean called to his friends back. Benny flicked him the bird, laughing over his shoulder._

 

*****

 

“Dean Winchester? Mr. Winchester?” Dean jolted from his stupor and up out of his seat, staggering toward the questioning voice and offering his hand.

 

“Yes, that’s--I’m Dean Winchester.” He may have misjudged his footing, or maybe he just hadn’t been paying much attention to the fact that the linoleum transitioned suddenly into carpet and he ending up pitching forward, pinwheeling his arms to offer more balance, and knocking the waiting man in the face with his chin. “Shit--I mean shoot. I’m so sorry!”

 

“It’s fine. Really, don’t sweat it You’d be surprised how often that actually happens.” The man was rubbing his reddening cheek, but offered Dean a smile and stepped to the side to allow him into his office. Dean took a deep breath and practically collapsed into one of the chairs on the nearest side of the cluttered desk.

 

Dean struggled not to panic as his soon to be interviewer made his way to his own chair, a big brown number that looked slightly worse for wear. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting when he had received the call from Northridge Preparatory, but it certainly was not this. The room was--messy. Books and folders were stacked everywhere, mixed in with glass jars and cases displaying the remains of--bees? Photos were crammed together on one wall, featuring what must have been members of the student body posing in caps and gowns, sports gear, science safety suits, and outlandishly thrown together theme outfits that Dean guessed was from some sort of pride week. The man across the desk from him was a member of more than half of them, just as involved as the teenagers at his side.

 

“Attractive bunch you’ve got.” He offered, turning his attention across the desk. He flinched at the unintended undercurrent such a phrase could hold. “Not that I---that is to say I don’t--”

 

“Don’t worry about it.” He was grinning, a smile full of white teeth and a bit too much gum, but it was oddly relaxing and Dean sagged in his chair. “I don’t really get the ‘I’m a child predator’ vibe from you.”

 

“Right. You’re probably good at catching on to things like that, Mr...” He gave a weak smile, his voice cracking and wobbly. “Sorry, I--I can’t seem to bring your name to mind.”

 

Son of a bitch--what an awful way to start a job interview. Assault, foul language, mild allusion to a sexual preference for minors, and now lack of the most basic knowledge on his would be superior. Nice, Winchester. Real nice.

 

“Dr. Novak. Castiel. Most people call me Dr. C.” He is smiling again and this time Dean finds it unsettling. It makes his guts churn in a not great way. “So I was looking over your resume before you arrived and I have to say--aren’t you a bit overqualified for the position?”

 

“Er--well--ahem--” Dean struggled to come up with something impressive to say, grasping for a hint of the easy charm he once had that would lend him an air of hire-ability, but all that he could locate within his brain were an unfortunate amount of hair rock lyrics he would have to murder his brother for later. He then lapsed into a mild state of hyperventilation.

 

“Mr. Winchester?” Dr. Novak linked his fingers together and leaned forward, eyebrows raised so high his entire forehead was a mass of lines. Dean swallowed and met the man’s gaze. “These things tend to go better if both of us remember to breath.”

 

“I’m really sorry. This whole thing started off in hell and for the life of me I can’t seem to stop burrowing to newer depths of it.” Dean blurted, wincing as he once again threw in four lettered embellishment. He was screwed. This guy was never going to hire him. To his surprise--Novak laughed.

 

“It’s high school, Dean. The sole purpose of this place is to show you that hell is actually paradise.” The radio on his desk lit up green and Dean jerked as static crackled around the room. His body went tense and he clutched the arms of his chair so hard the wood creaked.

 

“Dr. Novak?”

 

“Yep, go ahead.” He leaned back in his chair and mouthed an apology.

 

“The cheerleaders are in the lobby with an--erm--surprise once your meeting has finished.”

 

“Thank you, Hannah.” He set the radio down and looked at the folder laid open in front of him. “Right, well this interview was properly awful, but I’m prepared to offer you the job if you’d like it.”

 

“Uh, what?” Dean asked stupidly, raising an eyebrow like the man had lost his mind.

 

“To be honest, I was going to offer you the job so long as you didn’t show up drunk or naked, we are a bit desperate to fill the position. Our previous custodian left us in a bit of a bind, getting knocked up so early into the new term and all.” He grinned at Dean and lifted his hands as if to say, what can you do? “Your tenure in the Marine Corps is impressive and frankly does more to prove your reliability and diligence than any ass kissing you could have done in here today. Also, the shiner you've undoubtedly given me is going to give me a bit of street cred with the kids in the third period lecture I’m giving soon and for that, you deserve the job.”

 

For a moment Dean just stared at him, unsure if the man was serious, he had that gummy smile pasted across his face again, and his forehead was doing the crinkling thing, and Dean felt slightly queasy, so he stood carefully and offered his hand. “Thank you, sir.”

 

“Ah, good!” Novak stood and shook his hand firmly, a surprising amount of callouses lining his palm, and rounded the desk. “I’ll leave you with my secretary, she can get you set up with an identification badge, keys, the works. Anything you need, any questions you may have, she’s the one to ask. The place would fall down if it weren’t for her.”

 

“Right.” Dean would have liked to offer more, but the day had been considerably more taxing than he had bargained for and he really just wanted to get out of there.

 

“Welcome to Nor Prep, Mr. Winchester. Good to have you on board.” With a final flash of teeth, he left Dean standing in the hallway and exited out of the glass lobby doors toward a group of giggling cheerleaders, holding a neon pink banner in the shape of a house that read ‘Dr. C Lifts Us Up’ and so many balloons they blocked the front exit from view. Castiel held out his arms and made a joyful whooping noise that Dean could make out with little to no problem even from this distance. He shook his head incredulously.

 

Not what he expected at all.


	2. Emotional Security

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING : Minor mention of death and suicide.

It was close to six and Dean knew that any minute his brother would arrive, family in tow, expecting dinner that wasn’t ready. He had been trying for several hours, but the downhill trend of the day had continued since leaving Nor Prep and Dean was close to throwing in the towel, telling his his brother family night was canceled, and laying in bed all weekend nursing a bottle or three of bourbon.

 

The doorbell ring and he kicked the oven door closed, throwing the mushy mess of a casserole pan into the sink and kicking the cabinet in exasperation. Dean buried his face in his hands, at last overwhelmed, and let out a slew of curse words.

 

“Uncle Dean said a bad word!” Gracie yelled back to her dad in the living room, who winked at his eldest daughter.

 

“Uncle Dean had to deal with scary outsiders today. He’s earned a pass on the swear jar.” Sam dropped two pizza boxes on the counter and clapped his brother on the shoulder. “You alright?”

 

“Yeah.” Dean sighed, rubbing his face and then dropping his hands to his sides. Gracie immediately latched on to one and tugged hard. He dropped down to one knee and grinned at her. “How’s my favorite little lady today?”

 

“I kicked Brett Davis in gym class and he cried so I got sent to the office. But daddy said I wasn’t in trouble because Brett Davis is a butthead.”

 

“Oh did he now? Cause he told me a different story.” Jessica Winchester finally made her way into the kitchen, hugely pregnant and wrestling a wriggling toddler in her arms. Dean crossed the room to kiss her cheek and stole his nephew Michael for a round of raspberries to the neck and baby giggles that made his heart turn to mush.

 

“Well, honey, I--”

 

“Don’t well honey me, Sam Winchester. Just because you and your brother grew up wild and fist happy does not mean I’m letting my children do the same.” She was teasing, but Sam still shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Ten years together and it was evident who wore the pants.

 

“Yes, Ma’am.”

 

“Pussy.” Dean mouthed when he caught his brother’s gaze and the younger man shrugged and nodded his ascent. “How’d you know to bring pizza?”

 

“Jess apparently knows you all too well.” Sam had crossed over to the sink and was poking at the discarded dinner with curiosity. “What is this?”

 

“It was meant to be turkey pot pie casserole, but I had a little--uh--trouble.” They shared a smirk, Sam shaking his head and moving to take plates down from the cupboard. Michael slapped Dean’s cheeks, gaining his full attention. “Owww!” He cried dramatically sending the boy into a fit of giggles. He set him down and held his hands up in the classic ‘tickle monster’ pose and wiggled his fingers wildly. “I’m gonna get you now!”

 

Micheal screamed and toddled off clumsily at top speed, which admittedly wasn’t very fast, but Dean let him get a head start before stomping loudly after him. Jess watched with a smile from where she sat at the small dining table off the the side of the kitchen.

 

“I think it’s time we set him up.” She offered the commentary as soon as her brother-in-law was out of earshot. Sam snorted in response as he plated a few slices of pizza on each plate and carried them to the table.

 

“Yeah, because he’d be super amenable to that.” Jess shrugged and and looked off in the direction of her children’s laughter.

 

“He just seems lonely is all. He’s never happier than when the kids are around.”

 

“Okay? What’s your point?”

 

“My point is he needs someone other than his brother to occupy his time and make make him feel like a human being.”

 

“Jess…” Sam sighed, shaking his head. It wasn’t the first time the two had begun this discussion but it always devolved into an argument. Dean and Sam had always been closer than most brothers due to their unorthodox upbringing, but things had gotten even more complicated since the elder’s return from his most recent tour of active duty with an ass load of extra baggage in tow. He wasn’t getting into a shouting match with his wife in his brother’s kitchen.

 

“Fine. But, Sam--”

 

“Jessica.” Sam bit off, raising his eyebrows. She glared back for half a second and then sighed and waved him off. Later. They could do this later.

 

“Monsters One and Two are inches from munching on my leg--you two ready to eat?” Dean came in, Gracie sitting on his shoulders and Michael hanging upside down over one arm, chewing on a handful of Dean’s shirt and drooling all over.

 

“All set!” Sam said cheerfully

 

*****

 

“Wanna talk about today?” The two brothers sat on the back porch, each nursing a beer and watched the kids laughing together as they rolled in the grass. Dean shrugged and took a long pull from his bottle.

 

“It wasn’t so bad. Just got in my own head is all.”

 

“You didn’t--was it an attack or just…” Sam trailed off, searching his brother’s face. Dean had a tendency to keep things bottled up inside of himself until it was too much for him to handle and he devolved into raw emotion that was uncontrollable. Rage, depression, hallucinations--random points of the spectrum no one could predict. Sam had seen it happen one too many times and he was starting to learn the surface signs at the very least.

 

“It was just a tough day, Sam. I’m fine. I promise.” Dean finished his beer off and grabbed another one from the beat up cooler between them. “I got the job.”

 

“What?! You made it sound like a disaster on the phone.”

 

“It was a disaster! But the principal is weird man. Like--really weird. I only spent twenty minutes with the guy but something is definitely off in his brain.”

 

Sam laughed, twisting the top off his own second bottle and offering it up for a toast. “To weird bosses and luck.”

 

“Luck my ass.” Dean muttered with a half smile. “I might not make it the year at that place.”

 

Jessica strolled out onto the porch and leaned against the back of Sam’s chair. “American Idol just went off. You about ready to head home?”

 

“Yep.” Sam noticed the flash of disappointment on his brother’s face and nodded toward the kids. “Can you grab one of the monsters and give me a minute?”

 

“Sure. Dean--always a pleasure.” Jess leaned over his chair next and kissed the top of his head. “Love you!”

 

“Love you.” Dean replied, reaching up to squeeze her hand where it rested on his shoulder. “Thanks for coming over.”

 

“Next Friday, our house. I’ll show you a real turkey casserole.” Jess winked at him and moved away toward the kids.

 

“I can stay.” Sam offered, knowing the refusal that was going to follow.

 

“Go home, man. I’m going to clean up, maybe give myself a haircut, and go to bed. I’ll be fine.” Even as he said it he was reaching for another beer. His stomach was going back to being twisty, but he was going to ignore it. It was nothing. Indigestion. “Might even catch a Rick and Morty rerun. Live the wild life.”

 

“I can stay.” Sam said again, quieter and more serious this time. Looking pointedly toward Dean’s beer. The elder of the two sighed and set the bottle aside.

 

“I’m fine. I won’t drink too much. I won’t forget my meds. I won’t off myself in the bathtub with a hair dryer. I can’t remember? Your wife took it away last month.”

 

“She left the toaster though.” Sam smiled wryly and Dean grinned back. Suicide humor. That’s how you could judge whether or not Sam was going to drop the doting brother act and feel secure enough in Dean’s state of mind to leave him home alone. They got to their feet and Dean grabbed him in a hug, something they never parted without, not anymore. “I have a busy case load next week, but let’s make some time to go fishing, yeah?”

 

Dean slapped his back and nodded, taking a quick breath in before stepping out of the hug. Embarrassing or not--Sam’s smell was a comfort to him. He would take the information to his grave, but it calmed his nerves and tonight he needed it. “Definitely. Freezer is looking a little bare anyway.”

 

“Unca!” Michael waved his chubby hands toward him, face screwing up in a telltale sign that a meltdown was coming. “Unca Dee!”

 

“I got you buddy!” Dean swung the three year old up into the air and released him, catching him easily and grinning. “I’ll see you soon, promise!”

 

Michael snuggled into his neck and held on tight. “You’ll have to get him to the car then, D.” Jess was moving away, nodding absently to Gracie’s prattle.

 

Dean watched them back out of the driveway, honking once before leaving, Sam’s arm stuck out the window in a wave. Dean went back to the backyard and finished his beer. In fact, he finished the rest of the cooler’s worth and fell asleep in the cool night breeze, sliding into sleep so heavy he didn’t even notice when it started to rain.

 

*****

 

_“Dammit, Harvelle, where are you!” Dean pressed the coms harder into his ear listening for any type of response he may have missed the first time around. Benny and Garth were at his back, guns at the ready, sweeping the left and right respectively as they inched down the darkened alley. “Fuck.”_

_“What’s the plan, Brother?” Benny’s voice was low, his accent thicker in the tension of the moment. “She’s been missing twelve minutes.”_

_“I know how long she’s been missing!” Dean snapped, despite taking another glance at his watch, just to check that he wasn’t mistaken. Simple patrol. Zone was clear. In and out. That’s what the people at the top had said when they sent them._

_“You already took care of the bad guys.” They had said, clapping him on the back with a cocky smile only afforded to those who weren’t part of the ‘street crew’ as Dean and his team liked to call themselves. “Now’s just secondary clean up. Nothing but wives out there.”_

_Ignorant sons of bitches._

_“I’m doubling back.” He finally said, making up his mind about how to precede. “Keep moving forward, quick and quiet, finish the sweep. Then we start kicking in fucking doors.”_

_“You got it, Top.” Garth offered a fist which Dean and Benny both knocked, nodding once to each other as they separated. Dean kept his gun aimed ahead, moving slowly, eyes trained on any minuscule shifting in the shadows on either side. “Come on, Jo. Come one.”_

_A singular whistle split the air and he shifted his gun in that direction, crouching, ready. Benny had taken a knee at the other end of the street. He touched his brow, his left lobe, two fingers dropped to the rear. Dean nodded, reading the as a warning of movement, two bodies, assumed black (unfriendly). Dean took two breaths and shifted into the cavity ahead of him. They’d mapped it earlier and he knew he could use it to circle around and come up at the flank of their new friends._

_Surprise, you pieces of shit, he thought to himself as he moved, the two figures coming to view. One was holding a military issue rifle, too high up so not a professional, posture tense. The second was on the defensive, head tilted down in an effort to appear non threatening. Jo. Benny and Garth wouldn’t be able to tell from their angle but it was her. Dean gave her a once over, she was hunched to the right, injured maybe. Dean slung his rifle over his shoulder and slipped his knife from his pocket. Quick and quiet, he reminded himself._

_He could tell the exact moment Jo saw him coming even if her captor could not. She said something in Arabic, voice masking the barest whisper of his footsteps as he crept forward. “Cockatoo.” Dean breathed the word into his coms, instructing Benny and Garth to stay invisible. One misstep and Jo was dead. More Arabic, dripping with anger and disgust. They must have given her a command, because Jo was nodding ascent, slowly lowering herself to her knees. Almost there. Almost…almost…_

_Warm blood flowed out over his hands as he planted the knife into the base of the skull. Jo dove to the side as a spatter of gunfire rang out, stirring the dirt into a frenzy in front of them and giving Dean a case of temporary blindness as the muzzle flash broke the darkness. Garth was there, checking Jo’s ribs when she motioned to them. Benny kicked the gun away and checked for a pulse._

_“Clean, brother.”_

_“Not so much.” Dean panted, wiping his knife on the leg of his fatigues and sheathing it. “That noise is bound to attract attention. We need to get the hell out of here. Jo, you good?”_

_“Good to go.” Her voice was strained but she got to her feet fine enough. She crossed over to the body on the ground and lifted her rifle back up on to her shoulder. “Nothing but wives.” She spat, shaking her head. Dean had guessed the assailant was a woman, trained to protect the men who’d left them in the hot zone in the first place, Jo’s words only confirmed his suspicions. “Might need to retrain our higher ups the definition of secondary clean up.”_

_With Jo back in ranks, they moved on in their usual line up. Dean at the head, Garth and Jo at either shoulder, Benny covering the rear. They had done it a thousand times, for years. A well oiled machine. A family. Dean couldn’t shake the feeling that only the tip of the ice burg had been revealed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So happy a few have shown interest in reading this! I have a few chapters finished so hopefully I can update on the regular :)


	3. And he's oh so Good, and he's oh so Fine

The weekend passed in relative quiet. On Saturday Dean woke up on the back porch with a serious cramp in his neck from being hunched over in his chair all night and damp socks from where the rain had blown under the awning with the breeze, but he was also so rested that he really couldn’t complain. He separated the recycling and cleaned up the mess left behind from dinner the night before. He stocked the fridge with basic food and a new case of beer, and changed the sheets on his bed. Routine. That’s what everyone said that he needed.

 

On Sunday he opened the garage and touched the khaki colored canvas hiding his most prized possession. His fingers closed into a fist around the fabric and he tugged it off, leaving it in a pile in the corner, a smile turning up the edges of his lips as the shiny black beauty seemed to wink at him in invitation. “Hey, Baby. It’s been awhile.”

 

The front door of the Impala creaked as he climbed inside, closing his eyes to savor the moment. He didn’t drive her much these days, opting instead for the practical two seater pick up he’d purchased when he’d returned home. Baby had become one of those weekend cars. To be honest--it was a disgusting neglect. He patted the dash and whispered an apology as he turned the key in the ignition and grinned as she came to life. “I’ll take you some place nice, how bout it?”

 

He toured the back roads leisurely, windows down and music playing low in the background, eventually finding a straight away and pressing the pedal to the floor to allow her speed to climb and the wind to blow the last of his anxiety clear from his mind. Then he turned toward town to spend a few hours at the community center, volunteering his time to fix odds and ends around the small campus just as he had been doing every week for the last month. On his way home he drove past the VA and halfheartedly attempted to convince himself to go in. In the end he drove past and made a note to phone in a monetary donation. It was too hard to be around those people. In a way he wished he could be--they were the only ones who would be able to understand what went on inside of him on the worst days. They knew what it was like over there, every moment spent worried about getting the people beside you home. They knew what it was like to fail the ones you swore to never let down.

 

He shook his head, told himself not to go there, and almost left city limits without stopping for a bottle of whiskey. Almost. 

 

 

Monday morning, Dean tried his very best not to appear hung over on his first day of work. It was six A.M, he had arrived thirty minutes earlier and made his way around the perimeter of the building, turning on lights and unlocking entrance doors as Hannah had instructed him should be his morning routine. He was now sitting in the front lobby, waiting for a Coach Balty to give him a tour of the campus, show him which hallways housed what classes, where the supply closets were located, and give him a copy of the daily schedule so that he would know what classes were going at what times. The guy was late and Dean’s head was pounding. He had spotted a coffee pot sitting behind the front counter in the secretary’s work space and he hoped it wasn’t a problem that he’d already put a pot on and was nursing a cup. Strong. So good. So not helping.

 

“Good morning, Mr. Winchester!” He winced at the way too cheerful greeting from one Castiel Novak as he breezed through the doors beaming and looking--completely a wreck. His hair was all over the place and he had paired a well worn half marathon t-shirt with mesh shorts and tennis shoes.

 

“Uh, Good morning, sir.” Dean offered with a raised brow. This guy had a doctorate. He was headmaster of a prestigious private school. This was how he showed up to work?

 

“That’s really not necessarily.” Castiel waved away the formality and beamed easily at Dean. “I don’t even think the kids around here call me sir.” Dean nodded, but kept his comments to himself. Castiel pointed toward the coffee pot. “If you’re shooting for a raise, I prefer tea. But also I’m not allowed to consider it until you’ve hit 130 days of employment.”

 

Dean snorted and snapped his fingers as if to say, ‘well, damn’. He waited quietly while the other man poured himself a cup, added way too much sugar and pouted when he found the mini fridge devoid of the good kind of creamer.

 

“Let me guess--you’re waiting on Balthazar? What time was he supposed to be here?”

 

Dean checked his watch and winced. 6:20. “Forty minutes ago.”

 

“Not surprising. I’ve got some time before I have to put on the clown suit, how bout I show you around?”

 

“Clown suit?” Dean asked as he followed him out of the lobby and down the hall.

 

“You know, slacks, button up, suit coat, and tie? Did you think I was going to wear this all day?” He motioned to the hobo outfit and grinned. “I wish.”

 

“I was wondering.”

 

“It was such beautiful morning I decided to run here. Well--walk/jog. I don’t live far and I keep a suit in my office. I’m actually not so good with mornings. If I had to get dressed at home I probably would have quit years ago. It’s the whole reason I became a principal.”

 

“So you could basically come to work in your pajamas?”

 

“Exactly.” Castiel grinned and pointed to the floor. “So this is the Principal’s hall, aptly named because I am housed just through that door there.”

 

Dean made note of the second entrance to the man’s office and tried to keep tabs on all of the other places he was introduced to on the brief tour of the two story building. Once they’d made the rounds, they returned to the lobby and Castiel handed him a few print offs.

 

“Phone chart, bell schedule, room assignments, and just in case you get lost, campus map. Oh, and here is my card, it has my personal number on there in case you have an emergency of some sort. Or you just get bored and want to look me up on the scrabble app.” He winked at Dean as he pressed the paperwork into his hands. “I better get cleaned up. Take it easy today, ok? Get yourself settled in. We’ll have a faculty meeting after school and I’ll introduce you around. You can let Balth know what an ass he is.”

 

“Thank you, si--uh, Dr. C.” Dean tried to keep tabs on his facial expressions. He had no idea what the fuck they’d just gone over in the past thirty minutes, but he wasn’t about to ask for a refresher course. He could figure it out. It was just a high school, not the deserts of Kuwait. Castiel slapped him on the back good-naturedly.

 

“Door is always open, Dean!”

 

 

Dean used the map to get back around to the office Castiel had labeled as his own and he let himself inside. The former occupant hadn’t been much for organization and he had to pick his way to the back of the room where a desk and chair was tucked away. There was a heavy envelope waiting there with his name on it. He picked it up curiously and tore it open. Inside were letters from kids declaring themselves as members of the Beta Club welcoming him to the school and informing him to look out for their purple ribbons through out his first week if he needed anything.

 

He felt out of place and on edge. He wasn’t sure what he should do with himself. The hallways had looked pretty well taken care of this morning on his walk around and he was sure there wasn’t much for him to do until the students started arriving for the day, but he couldn’t just sit on his ass not doing anything. He had been hired to do a job, so he found himself something to do. He spent the next hour or so going through the materials in the room and relocating things until he had a system worked out and he didn’t feel so claustrophobic. He could hear people start filtering around outside of the office and when the bell rang at 8:15 he placed his hand over his heart and recited the pledge of allegiance. He made a mental note to purchase one of those cheap flags at Target later as he couldn’t locate one within the room.

 

The radio on his hip made a god awful racket, and then someone was saying his name.

 

“Yes, ma’am?”

 

“We had a kid get sick in 1403.” He didn’t recognize the voice, but the woman on the other end jokingly added “Welcome to your first day at Nor Prep.” before the line went silent again.

 

“Here we go, Winchester.” He said to himself as he consulted his campus map and went off in search of vomit.

 

*****

 

“Oh my god. Please tell me he’s a new teacher.”

 

“Sweet baby Jesus. Please tell me he’s my new daddy.”

 

“Gross, Claire.”

 

“What, we’re all thinking it.”

 

“He’s the janitor. He mopped up puke in Calhoun’s class this morning.”

 

“Wow. He can--”

 

“Please don’t make anymore gross euphemisms on our way to lunch please.”

 

Dean felt a little gross himself as he overheard the conversation of the group of girls behind him in the hall. He had gotten a few hellos from members of the student body throughout the morning, and most of the teachers introduced themselves as he’d come into their rooms during free period to empty trash cans, but this blatant curiosity and--well attraction from girls twenty years his junior made his skin crawl.

 

“You look kinda pale, dude. You ok?” A redhead sporting wild red curls and a pink flower drawn on one cheekbone was leaning against a wall under the stairs he had tucked himself into in order to get out of the line of fire from the lechers and he almost hit her with the garbage can he’d been pushing in self defense when she spoke up.

 

“Oh, yeah, good, I’m fine.”

 

“They say fine means freaked out--”

 

“Insecure, neurotic, and emotional?” He finished for her. She grinned at him and shrugged.

 

“Pretty much.” She flicked her eyes to the girls rounding the corner away from their hiding spot and then back to Dean and rolled them dramatically. “You’re a novelty now, but they’ll get used to you like they got used to Coach Cutie last year and then you’ll basically be invisible.”

 

“Coach Cutie?” He asked, a look of disgust wrinkling his features and making her laugh. She wasn’t wearing one of the school uniforms so that meant she was teacher and not a student, but she had a face that could have fit in with the kids.

 

“Coach Carpenter. He’s a bio teacher and and coaches the track team. Rocks a beard and crushes casual Friday in joggers that frankly could be labeled obscene in the right circles. Or squares depending on sexual-preference and/or gender norms.”

 

“Good to know.” Dean huffed, the halls were clearing and any minute now--on cue the bell rang out. “You’re late.”

 

“Eh. Is punctuality really all that important?”

 

“So I hear.” With another eye roll, she waved her fingers in a goodbye and left him alone. It occurred to him then how pathetic is was that he had ducked back here to hide from a bunch of teenagers. He could almost hear Benny now. “How the mighty have fallen, brother.” He smiled nostalgically and left his hiding place to continue with his day.

 

***** 

 

Dean was sitting at a table alone at the back of the quickly filling library after the final bell of the day had rang, picking at a loose splinter in the wood table top when the chair beside his was dragged away noisily and he looked up to be greeted by the same redhead from earlier.

 

“I actually kind of despise humans under the age of 25. I’m not positive why I even work here.” She said in lieu of greeting and took a huge bite out of one of the finger sandwiches she’d piled her small plate with. Dean had forgone the refreshment table on his way inside, but he found he didn’t mind stealing one of her triangle shaped pimento sandwiches for himself. She scowled and swatted his hand away. “Get your own. Charlie Bradbury by the way. Didn’t introduce myself earlier. Head of IT studies around here.”

 

“Dean Winchester. Um--head of custodial arts.” He grinned when his less than clever line made her snort and marveled at how comfortable he felt talking to her.

 

“Excuse me! Yes, hi. Thanks for coming, I’m going to try to keep this short as we’ve all got places we’d much rather be.” Novak was standing at the front of the group, smiling as he waited for the adults to quiet their chatter and tune in for whatever he had to say. He made a few announcements and reminded everyone bout emails circulating that he needed everyone to be sure they responded to, verified with the History department that a reenactment group would be on campus the following week and that all of their classes would be held on the soccer field, and then motioned for Dean.

 

Son of a bitch. Dean stood up, hoping that would work, but Castiel shook his head and waved his hands dramatically, indicating he wanted to be joined a the front. “He’s a little shy, let’s give him a hand.” Dean really hated the guy then. His face was on fire and he put all of his effort into not letting his feet get tangled up as he picked his way to the front of the room.

 

“I’m sure some of you have noticed him already, but this is Dean Winchester. He is taking Sandra’s place as our head custodian and I trust all of you will make him feel at home. Would you like to say anything, Dean?”

 

“Um.” Dean began, eyes darting around the room nervously. He swallowed and shrugged. “My name is Dean Winchester. I’m an Aquarius. I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and uh, half priced Tuesday at the Kitty Shack.” What. The. Fuck. Dean closed his eyes, certain that if there were a god the floor would open up now and swallow him whole. Laughter tittered around the room and Castiel was grinning at him when he dared to look.

 

“That was beautiful. Thanks for that insight, Mr. Winchester. I’m going to dismiss now, but Dean is going to stay up here with me if any of you feel like stopping by to say hi.”

 

“This really isn’t necessary.” Dean muttered out of the corner of his mouth as people began to get up and head his way. Too many people. Too many smiling face.

 

“Everyone needs new friends Dean.”

 

“Not really. I like my old friends.”

 

All your old friends are dead, the voice in his head reminded, but he shoved it down, refusing to give it an inch in this room of strangers.

 

“All those beauties at the Kitty Shack you mean?” Castiel winked at him and Dean gave him a begrudging smile before turning to greet the first in line of those that stayed behind to chat with the new guy.

 

After everyone cleared out Dean gathered the scraps of trash they had left behind, unsurprised when Castiel stayed behind to help.

 

“How was your first day?”

 

“Went ok. Only the one kid got sick so that was a plus.” Castiel wrinkled his nose and stuck his tongue out, making Dean duck his head to hide his smile. “Glamorous I know.”

 

“I remember in college I had his roommate who never failed to barf into a pair of my shoes everytime he dramk. He never even bothered to clean it up. I hated that guy.” Castiel shook his head at the memory, dropping the last of the trash into the can and watching as Dean tied it off. Together they moved toward the door. “Like I really hated him. Once I got so mad I poured it out onto his bed, but then I felt bad so I washed the sheets before he got back from class.”

 

Dean grinned and shook his head. “My buddy Garth was really weak with alcohol too. He didn’t throw up too much, but he’d always try to strip down naked and challenge you to light saber wars with his di--uh, p-penis.”

 

It was Castiel’s turn to laugh, both at the story and the awkwardness with which Dean had sputtered out the word penis. “Sounds like my kind of guy.” He offered with a wink. “We should hang out.”

 

Bile suddenly rose up in Dean’s mouth and he started to withdraw inside himself. Novak was none the wiser, taking the silence as companionable and whistling to himself as they pushed through the outer doors. He was unaware that beside him, Dean was starting to black out.

 

Spots of light flickered across his vision and then blurred into blackness. He gripped the edges of the garbage can so tight his knuckles cracked and then turned white, he wobbled on his feet, panted heavily, and then pitched sideways.

 

“Jesus christ!” Castiel staggered at the weight of Dean crashing in to him. He only just managed to keep his footing and grip the other man’s shirt and arm hard enough to prevent him from slamming into the ground. He laid him on his side, afraid that he was having a seizure.

 

Dean’s eyes flickered rapidly behind his lids. Garth. No. No. NO. Not now, not like this, please. Please. “Please.” He whimpered out loud and curled into the fetal position. “No, please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so thankful to all who have given this story a chance! For the bookmarks, the kudos, and the comment, you are so appreciated!!! :)


	4. Find a place to take a Stand and take it Easy

_“Goddammit!” He was the leader. The one they looked to for guidance,structure, strength. The one who was supposed to have all the answers. Right now the only answer he had was that they were fucked. Dean tapped the end of the SAT phone between his eyes, dialed in to base one more time--with the same result. They’d killed the line._

_“Dean?” Jo brushed her fingers against his arm, her touch soft but her voice demanding. “What’s going on? Don’t keep this shit to yourself.” He nodded in reply and turned back to his comrades. They’d hunkered down in the crumbling shell of a building so that Dean could come up with a plan, preferably a good plan, but a plan of any kind would do._

_“I’m gonna give it to you straight and I’m going to warn you that it isn’t good news.” He looked at each of them in turn, receiving their acceptance before they’d even heard what he had to say. “They sunk us.”_

_The silence spoke volumes. Secondary clean up. He should have asked more questions, demanded more answers. He had been in the game so long with the same superiors that he’d trusted them to give him the truth when they gave him the order to take his team into a life or death situation. This mess was partly his fault because he’d taken it on faith that their lives mattered more than the mission. And now--now he’d probably signed his friend’s death writs and they didn’t even know the real reason why._

_“Don’t you do that, brother.” Benny moved in closer and gripped his shoulder hard. “Don’t you put this on yourself now.”_

_“This one’s on me, Ben. Can’t tell me no different.” He had to get them out of here. He had to get them out of here and he had to do it on his own. Jo’s fingers tightened on his wrist where they had been since she’d come to his side after the last SAT call. And Garth--the most trusting and hopeful of them all--_

_“Drinks on me when you get us out of this mess.” He slapped his hand down on the shoulder opposite Benny and gave Dean that goofy smile he was so famous for. Dean let out a breath of laughter. “No pressure.”_

__

__*****_ _

 

He came to in a parking lot and it took him a few seconds to remember what had even happened. He blinked rapidly in an attempt to clear his vision. Castiel’s face swam into view. And he still had that ridiculous smile plastered all over the lower half.

 

“There we go. Knew you could do it.” Dean took note of the fact that the man’s hand was resting on his shoulder, drifting about halfway down his bicep and then back up again. “Slow breaths.”

 

“H--how long have I been out?”

 

“Eight minutes.” He answered without hesitation, still rubbing Dean’s arm gently. “You were only down for two before I got you to sit up. You’ve been--talking the whole time.”

 

“How did you know what to do?” Dean asked quietly, staring hard at his hands in his lap, ashamed, hoping he hadn’t said too much.

 

“I used to get panic attacks after my brother died. I nearly lost my shit when you went down, but once I realized what was going on I just did what my dad would do for me.” They were both quiet then. Dean continued taking deep and slow breaths, counting his heart beats until they were back in a normal range.

 

“Thank you. I, uh, I think I can get up now.” Castiel got to his feet first and held out his hand for Dean to take. He was surprised by the ease with which he was pulled up off the asphalt.

 

“Good?” An edge of worry tinged Castiel’s voice even though he tried to hid it with another smile. Dean nodded and looked down at their hands, hanging between them, still clasped. Castiel caught his gaze and loosened his fingers, letting Dean’s hand fall away. He wiped his hands across his thighs. “I could give you a ride home or--”

 

“You jogged to work remember.” Dean offered a half smile.

 

“Shit. Yeah, I do now.” Castiel grinned and finger gunned him. A forty year old man…finger gunning.

 

“I could give you a ride…” Dean trailed off, not sure why he was even offering. The point was, Castiel was worried that he might not be able to drive. Shit. “I mean I realize now that defeats the purpose of your offer, but--”

 

“That would be great actually. And if you black out again I can Vin Diesel the wheel or something.” Dean chuckled softly and motioned to the trash can that had rolled away in the commotion and sat forgotten near the curb.

 

“I just need to--”

 

“I’ll help.” Castiel fell into step beside him, picking up the tune he’d previously been whistling where he had left off.

 

“You don’t have to.”

 

“I don’t mind.”

 

 

 

When they had finished Dean lead the way to the parking lot taking out his keys as they neared Baby. He’d decided on whim to take her out today, feeling like she would bring him good luck. Not that he was blaming her for the rocky ending.

 

“This is yours?” Castiel made an appreciative noise in his throat and circled. “Sixty eight?”

 

“Sixty seven.” Dean corrected proudly, almost puffing out his chest but managing to control himself.

 

“Good looking broad. I--”

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. You did not just call Baby a ‘broad’.” Dean was so offended he almost wanted to take back his offer for a ride.

 

“I’m sorrry--you call your car Baby?” Castiel was grinning as he rocked back on his heels, enjoying the look of disbelief on Dean’s face.

 

“Yes. If you had a decent ride you would understand.”

 

“For you information I have a great car. Great enough that I realize she deserves a proper name.”

 

“Which would be?”

 

“Regina.” Dean snorted and opened the driver side door. “Did you just laugh at me?”

 

“At your car yeah.” Dean dead panned, starting the engine as Castiel climbed inside. He was glad for the easy back and forth. Truth be told, he was still feeling shaken up and it always helped when there was someone to talk to after an episode. Usually he called Sam, who would then insist he also call his therapist, which usually made him feel worse. This felt better--and it was fun.

 

“Wait until you see her. You’ll eat those words.” Castiel gave him directions to his neighborhood which was only a few miles away.

 

“So what is it? A 2014 Honda Accord?” Dean said condescendingly.

 

“Har har, asshole.” Cas replied. Dean glanced over at him, taking in the way he was slouched in the passenger seat, eyes closed, lips turned up at the corners, and his arm dangling out of the rolled down window. He looked relaxed…happy. Dean wondered if he himself was ever so content anymore.

 

“This you?” He slowed as he neared the white house with a yellow door that Castiel had described. The latter man sat up straighter and confirmed. Dean didn’t see a Honda in the driveway at least. “So where is this amazing car then?”

 

“Where she likes it best--safe and warm.”

 

“So garage?” Dean exited the car and followed Castiel up the walkway toward the front door.

 

“Yep. We’ll have to go in through the house, you can’t open the garage from outside unless you’ve already punched the code in.” He glared at Dean’s snort of amusement.

 

“You really love your car.”

 

“Shut up. Also, do you mind taking off your shoes? We try to keep outside tarnish to a minimum.” He said we. Dean wondered at that being as he had never noticed a ring on the man’s finger. Maybe just a girlfriend then. Or a dog.

 

The house was freezing. Dead bodies in the basement freezing. The first room they came to was a living room, a couch taking up most of the space, oversized and covered in throw blankets and pillows. They continued on to a more modestly sized kitchen, a few dishes in the sink to which Dean overheard Castiel muttering quietly ‘why can’t she just put them in the dish washer’ which confirmed girlfriend over dog. Then Castiel stopped at a door leading off from the side and warned Dean to brace himself.

 

“Dean…this is Regina.” Sitting in the center of the garage, well out of range of being accidentally bumped or banged, sat an electric blue 1977 Firebird, black hood bird outlined in shiny gold. Ok, yeah, Dean thought to himself, that’s a beautiful car. When he stopped ogling he found Castiel was staring at him expectantly. “Tell her you’re sorry.”

 

“Baby is still better and Regina is still a stupid name.” Dean said with a shrug and Castiel scowled and pointed to the door.

 

“Get out.” He said it with a smile so Dean accepted it as a joke. Nonetheless, they left the garage and he was pretty sure he caught the man blowing a kiss over his shoulder. He respected that. “So--you’re feeling better?”

 

“Hundred percent.” Dean reassured as he knelt awkwardly on the porch attempting to retie his shoes. It was proving difficult and he was starting to feel flustered so he just shoved the strings into the sides and straightened creakily. “Thanks again, man.”

 

Castiel waved him off and said goodbye, staying just outside of the doorway until Dean had backed out of the drive and driven away.

 

***** 

 

Despite the rough start, Dean’s days moved swiftly after that. He formed a successful work routine that allowed him to get everything he needed done. He took an hour lunch around eleven a.m each day when Charlie had a prep period and would come into his office to talk his ear off. Sometimes about the new heights of stupidity or genius reached by her students, her successful climb to the top of the LARPING power ladder, disastrous dates she couldn’t believe turned out so terribly, and even on occasion her recurring sexual escapades with the cute lady who delivered her Amazon packages. Mostly Dean was content to let her talk while he listened, but sometimes she would insist he offer something intelligent to the conversation. On those days he would blather about his niece and nephew, the book he was currently reading, and when he was feeling good, he even debated with her about porn stars.

 

“Did we just become best friends?” She intoned one day after they’d played ‘one, two, three, cutest porn star’ and both had simultaneously answered Kylie Quinn. Dean didn’t say so out loud, but he was definitely starting to feel like Charlie WAS the best friend he had these days, other than Sam of course.

 

He had found a small coffee pot in one of the teacher’s lounges and after checking that he wasn’t filching from someone, he moved it to the front office and in the mornings along with the pot of coffee he brewed he also began to make a few cups of hot water and left a box of Harney & Son’s Paris Tea sitting nearby. He’d noticed a box on Castiel’s counter at home and he thought the other man might find it funny considering their conversation on Monday about a raise. He also stressed that it seemed creepy that after one visit to his house he knew his favorite tea, but he didn’t allow that to discourage him. He hadn’t yet run in to Castiel in the mornings since that first one, though he had received a text from a strange number showing a mug being held aloft by a hand with pinky out and a simple ‘thanks :P see me in 127 days and we’ll discuss that raise’ and it eased his anxiety. He stored the number with a smile, but didn’t respond.

 

 

 

Before he even realized it had happened, three weeks had passed. He found himself with Sam at a bar between their respective houses. The original plan was to join the younger Winchester and his family for taco night, but the kids had caught he stomach bug earlier in the week and even though they were feeling better Jess had insisted they go to bed early. After a round of pool they occupied one of the booths and ordered a couple beers and burgers. Sam was grinning at Dean across the table, using his hands dramatically to tell a truly outlandish story about a client that showed up late to court stoned out of his mind and tried to play patty cake with the judge from the witness box.

 

“I was mortified man. I knew the guy was a loose canon, but in no way was I expecting for that to happen.”

 

“You attract the weirdest clientele, Sammy.” Sam laughed and raise his beer to toast to the fact.

 

“Their money pays the bills all the same.”

 

Dean’s phone buzzed then and he fished it out of his pocket. Charlie had sent him a link to the LARPING site she was a member of, continuing work on her earlier objective of getting Dean to join her. He smiled at her tenacity, but politely refused. He hadn’t told her why. He didn’t believe that Charlie was aware of his former military career and she certainly didn’t have a clue about his PTSD. Charging into battle, elf ears and medieval weapons aside, was probably not the best course of action for him.

 

“That’s something I haven’t seen in a while.” Dean looked up at his brother and raised a brow in question. “You’re texting--and enjoying it might I add--but I’m sitting across the table from you so that means…”

 

“Yes, Sam, I have friends.” He kicked his little brother under the table, but Sam only laughed.

 

“That’s awesome, Dean.” The thing Dean found a little sad about the conversation then was that his brother seemed genuinely surprised and pleased to find out that he had a friend other than himself. It put in to perspective for Dean how much he had been relying on his brother since coming home and he wished he could make up for all of the sacrifices Sam had had to make to get him through. “Is it a lady friend?”

 

“Yep. A lesbian lady friend.”

 

“Well, you can’t have everything I guess.” Dean’s foot missed his mark this time, but he whooped Sam’s ass in their next game of pool so he considered them even.


	5. Woke up half an Hour ago, don't Remember much, and I'm feeling Slow

“Shit. Jess is going to kill me.” Sam groaned to Dean as their Uber idled in the street. The clock on the dashboard glowed obnoxiously bright, reminding both he and Dean that it was nearing 3 am. Only Dean was mostly too drunk to understand the gravity of the situation and the grin he offered to Sam in response was lopsided and goofy.

 

“Tell her it was my fault.” He slurred. “Actually she’s already going to blame me so not sure that will--hick--save you from the fight.”

 

“Jess loves you, man.”

 

“Jess loves YOU, man.”

 

“Jess does love me, man. How did that happen?” Sam had slumped down in the seat again, stupid smile just as big as Dean’s had been.

 

“Cause you’re--hick--awesome that’s how.” Dean closed his eyes with a sigh and began to hum a tune he had heard somewhere, but couldn’t place.

 

“Yeah. Man.”

 

“Man.”

 

The two lapsed into silence and after a few minutes their driver had begun to worry that the two middle aged men had drank themselves to death and were never going to make it the fuck out of his car. He reached back and shook the knee of the big one, who while eight feet tall and 300 pounds of solid muscle, scared him less for some reason than the smaller of the two. Smaller, but still huge. Where were these dudes from anyway--Krypton? Did Superman have siblings now?

 

“Uh, guys? Guys! Any chance of you getting out now?”

 

“Shit, man, yeah. Sorry. Haven’t been this drunk in--” Sam trailed off when Dean fell over in his sleep, banged his head on the window and jolted awake screaming--Korean?--and attempted to wrestle the back of the driver seat into submission. “DEAN! Hey! Quit trying to decimate the inanimate object.”

 

“Huh? Oh…my bad. Thanks for the ride my man.” He slapped the seat twice and kicked open the door, falling onto the street outside with a little laugh. Sam tipped the driver an obscene amount before he climbed out himself, struggling to get Dean to his feet.

 

“Should--hick, ugh, that tasted like puke--should we just sleep outside. Jess kind of scares me.” The two staggered up the driveway, leaning heavily on each other and breaking into childish laughter at Dean’s admission. They made it to the front door where Sam tried and failed to force his key in the lock. He banged his forehead against it.

 

“Stupid door.” He moaned, really starting to feel the effects of all the alcohol he had induced. He was too old for this shit. The porch light came on and Dean freaked out again and this time began wrestling a potted plant. Sam narrowed his eyes. Jess killed every plant they’d ever tried to take are of. That wasn’t his plant--this wasn’t his house. Whose fucking house was this. “Dean--”

 

“I’m armed!” A deep voice boomed through the front door. “I-I am not afraid to defend myself and I already called the police!”

 

“Whose your daddy?” Dean grunted, rolling over with the plant on top of him and then choking on bits of soil that fell into his mouth. “I will end you. I. Will. Fuck. Your. Shit. Up.”

 

“Dean!” Sam snapped, grabbing at his brothers arm and pulling him toward the stairs, still clinging to the plant and telling it to suck his ass. “Dean, we gotta go. This isn’t--”

 

“Dean?” The deep voice was louder now and Sam noted with horror that it was because the man had opened his door. He had said he was armed and while Sam had assumed he’d meant with a gun and was coming out shooting--he was only gripping a softball bat and not even menacingly. “Dean, what are you doing here?”

 

Dean poked his head out from behind the leaves, one eye clenched shut tight to protect himself from his enemy, and he grinned. “Cas! Are you--what the hell are you doing here?” He turned to his brother, keeping the plant in a choke hold. “Sam I didn’t know you knew Cas.”

 

“Uh, I don’t. Dean, let go of the fucking plant.” Sam yanked Dean up to his feet, dusting dirt off him and trying to straighten his shirt. Cas? Castiel. Dean’s boss! That fucking idiot had told the Uber to bring them to his boss’s house. “So sorry to bother you. We, uh, we got lost.”

 

“You guys are tanked.” Castiel had lowered the bat and he was staring fascinated at the scene in front of him. The giant whom he did not know had his arms wrapped tightly around a clearly intoxicated Dean Winchester, struggling against flailing arms and legs to keep him at bay.

 

“Fight me you bitch.” Dean--was talking to his peace lily. Or what had once been his peace lily. It was pretty well and ruined now. Castiel covered his grin with his hand and marveled at the gift God had given him. This was gold. Pure gold.

 

“Son of a bitch, Dean.” Sam growled. “You killed it. You won. Please stop.” Dean kicked the plant once more for good measure, but then sagged in his brother’s arms and finally wobbled to stand up straight on his own. “Man, I am so sorry. The Uber guy dropped us off here. We didn’t mean--”

 

“Cas! What are you doing here?” Dean had discovered Castiel again and tripped over his feet heading for him.

 

“I live here.” Cas laughed, leaning against the door jamb and watching with amusement as the tall one grabbed the shorter man and pulled him back a couple of feet when Dean had moved himself all the way into Castiel’s personal space. “What are you doing here, Dean?”

 

“Oh, I’m not sure. I thought we were going to Sam’s to get yelled at by Jess cause we’ve been very bad boys.” He giggled--fucking giggled--and winked at Castiel. “Defin--hick--definitely gonna need a good spa--”

 

Sam lurched forward and slapped his hand over Dean’s mouth. He couldn’t let him talk to his fucking boss about needing a spanking. He was probably going to get fired already for showing up at his door step drunk at 3 am. “Okaaay then, we’re going to be going now.”

 

“You’re going to walk? With him?” Castiel smirked and he and Sam both looked to Dean. He was swaying on his feet, humming the tune to Gilligan’s Island while he stared dreamily at Sam’s hair.

 

“It’s all so bouncy.” He said happily, tweaking the brown locks with his fingers.

 

“Um, I can call our Uber back. He couldn’t have gotten that far.”

 

“Let me just get my keys.”

 

 

It took the two of them to get Dean into the back seat of the car and he boasted half of the drive about how he’d kicked that plants ass before he passed out and began to snore.

 

“I’m Sam by the way.” Sam said to fill the silence. “I’m really hoping that you are as laid back as Dean has said and you aren’t going to fire him for this.”

 

“Absolutely not. Losing a few hours of sleep was definitely worth front row tickets to wrestle mania.”

 

“I can’t wait to remind him about that tomorrow.” They shared a laugh.

 

“So you’re Dean’s…boyfriend?”

 

“What? God, no, why do people always think we’re together?” His mouth turned down in a ridiculously exaggerated frown and then he shrugged. “He’s my brother.”

 

“Ah. Good.” Castiel paused and then added “Not good that he doesn’t have a boyfriend, just good that--” Sam held up his hands, fending off the explanation with a little smile on his face.

 

“No, judgment. Oh, this is mine.” He motioned to the left side of the road and Cas pulled over at the front of the house his passenger had indicated. He helped drag Dean out of the back and was sorely disappointed that he didn’t have his phone to snap a quick photo of Sam throwing his passed out brother across his shoulder instead of attempting to wake him. Dean’s body remained limp. “Thank you again, man. And--”

 

“If you apologize any more I’m going to have to take back my agreement not to fire him.” Castiel grinned and Sam nodded at him with a laugh.

 

“In that case I better get inside and get him put down for the night. And--deal with my wife.” He grimaced and Castiel wished him luck as he carried Dean up the front walk. He hadn’t yet pulled away when a pregnant woman opened the front door to let the two men come inside. Even from the road Cas could tell that the scowl on the woman’s face was no joke. He could also see that despite being two feet taller--Sam was in over his head tonight. He smiled to himself, hoping that come Monday he ran into Dean and was able to unload some of the nights arsenal on him.

 

*****

 

Dean had the worst hangover he had ever experienced. His whole body hurt. And his mouth tasted like dirt. He groaned and went to get out of bed only to realize that there was a coffee table very near to where he was lying when he slammed his bad knee into it and fell headlong into the floor.

 

“Son of a bitch!”

 

“Uncle Dean said a bad word!” Gracie sang out to no one in particular from where she sat on the opposite couch.

 

“Dean!” Why was Sam yelling? Why were his footsteps so loud as he pounded into the living room and crouched next to Dean. “Are you alright? I should have moved the table. I knew I should have moved the table.”

 

“I’m fine. Just--can you help me up? I need to piss.”

 

“Uncle Dean--”

 

“Said another bad word, they got it kid.” Dean mumbled, ruffling her hair as he limped away toward the bathroom. After using the bathroom he washed first his hands and then face and finally just bent over and doused his whole head under the tap. Fucking hell what had happened last night? And why did his fucking mouth taste like literal dirt? He gargled half the bottle of Listerine from the medicine cabinet and swallowed three Tylenol before heading out toward the smell of food.

 

Jessica set a plate of eggs and bacon in front of him. Well--slammed was a better word, but he ignored her obvious anger and cleaned his plate in record time. Sam was sitting next to him in silence and passed him the coffee pot once he’d poured himself a mug full. Jess shook her head and and stalked out of the kitchen.

 

“I’m guessing last night was--bad?” Dean inquired, already working on his second cup of coffee despite the burning in his throat that told him he’d drank the first too fast. Sam snorted and laid his head on the bar.

 

“So very bad.”

 

“Sleep on your couch bad or sleep on my couch bad?”

 

“I’ll get back to you.” Sam shoved himself back to his feet and went off in search of his furious wife. Dean finished off the eggs and bacon on the stove, drank two glasses of water, and found his way back to the living room in search of his wallet and keys.

 

“They’re by the door.” Gracie said, banging her socked feet on the back of the couch she was sitting upside on. Dean groaned and grumbled as he bent over to kiss her head.

 

“Thanks, munchkin. Tell the folks I headed home ok?”

 

“K. Love you.”

 

“Love you.”

 

 

 

He called an Uber, something he had found ridiculous the first time Sam had told him about the service and wondered what had been so bad about cabs, but had since used it more often than he would admit. He got dropped off at the bar where he had left the Impala and made his way home. After a very long and icy cold shower, he went back to bed.

 

He was woken up several hours too soon by knocking on his front door. He pulled the pillow over his head, intent on ignoring whoever was intruding on his much needed rest, but they were insistent and after conceding defeat he rolled into a sitting position on the edge of his bed. His knee ached and he rubbed at it absently. The knock came again, he gritted his teeth and bellowed for them to hold their damn horses, though he doubted they could hear him. After a moment of internal debate, Dean opted to use his crutch to limp to the front of the house and swung the door open with a scowl.

 

“Hello, Dean.” At first Dean could not quite make out who was standing on his porch. The sun felt like daggers, piercing his eyes and burrowing into his scull. He blinked rapidly to adjust his eyes to the intrusion and then he almost wished he hadn’t.

 

“C-Castiel.” It was meant to be a question but it came out wrong and the man who carried the name took an actual step back at the feral sound that left Dean’s mouth. Why was he standing on his front porch?

 

“Um--yes, maybe I should have called. Only I couldn’t call because I found your phone in my peace lily. I checked your employment file, but you didn’t have a secondary number. That’s how I got your address, your work file. I didn’t--I haven’t followed you here or anything. I’m not a stalker. I--uh--uh--” Castiel trailed off, laughing nervously. Dean only gaped at him, trying to catch up.

 

His phone had been… “What the fuck is a peace lily?”

 

“I should have just left it in the mailbox. I, uh, I apologize. I’ve--I have interrupted your day.” Dean could not figure out why the man was acting so squirrelly. He was blabbering and stumbling over his words. He had not known him for very long, but long enough to know that this was incredibly out of his normal range of behavior.

 

“Can you just, maybe slow down for a second?” Dean asked, voice more weary than scary now. “Maybe be less confusing.”

 

“You--you do know you’re, um, naked right?”

 

Dean looked down at himself. Shit. He wasn’t wearing pants. He wasn’t--he wasn’t wearing his leg. He closed his eyes. He was done. So very, very done. He walked away, the rubbery material at the bottom of his crutch making god awful squelching sounds in the awkward silence every time it bore his weight. “Close the door behind you if you’re coming in.”


	6. How sweet to Be an idiot

Dean reached his bedroom in record time, cursing whiskey, god, himself, and his squeaky crutch the whole way, and then slammed the door closed behind him. He leaned against it and began the long process of heading off the fog of anxiety creeping in like poison gas.

 

Breathe in. This wasn’t a big deal. Breathe out.

 

Breathe in. He was in control. Breathe out.

 

Breathe in. Everything was going to be fine. Breathe out.

 

Breathe in. Hyperventilation was bad, very bad, stop it. Breathe out.

 

“Son of a bitch.” He was no closer to reigning in the crazy than before he’d started the breathing exercises his shrink swore by. He wanted to hit something, but that wasn’t going to help anything so he closed his eyes and moved on to tactic two. Recount the facts, realistically asses the negatives.

 

Castiel knew about his leg. Which was not really that bad, it was not as if it was a state secret or anything. Sure, no one outside of his medical team and immediate family had been privy to the knowledge that while he had made it home, he had come back one appendage short. No, the worst part of him seeing the leg was that that was not the only thing that had been revealed to him. Somehow Dean had managed to forget the fact that he had fallen into bed naked after his shower and skipped the very important step of covering his dangling bits before he’d answered the door. Just his luck that the person on the other side was also one whom he was required to see on a regular basis in a professional environment.

 

So what is the silver lining here, Winchester? He asked himself, pleased to make note of the fact that his heart was no longer racing and that he was able take a full breath of air as well as release it in the proper amount of time. What was the one thing that could turn all of this around?

 

Was having symmetrical nuts a silver lining? Cause he’d been told on occasion that--

 

“Just get your clothes on.” Dean shook himself out of his thoughts before he forgot how to breathe again. He’d been in his room so long, Castiel had probably left by now or at the very least begun to worry he’d fallen back asleep or even expired from the embarrassment of their encounter. He pulled a pair of sweats and a shirt from his dresser and laid them on the bed, then brought his prosthetic and leg sleeve over as well. His knee was hurting like hell, but he didn’t want to be reliant on his crutch with company around.

 

He gave himself one more minute to wallow in self-pity and then went back out into the living room to find out why Castiel was there in the first place. Something about his phone. “You said you had my phone?”

 

Castiel jumped at the sound of his voice and dropped the picture frame he had taken from the mantel and had been looking at while Dean was in his room. It was almost comical, the way he fumbled it a few times trying to pick it up and then turned to face Dean, hands clasped like a school girl at his front. He smiled nervously and nodded. “Yes. You must have dropped it last night.”

 

“Last night? We saw each other?” Dean couldn’t remember much of last night beyond winning a game of pool and making a bet with Sam that he could walk farther on his hands across the room than his little brother could. He winced as a sharp pain shot up his thigh. He moved to the couch to sit down while he tried to piece together all of the information that was being thrown at him.

 

“Well--not on purpose.” Dean wasn’t sure he liked the cheeky grin spreading across Castiel’s face. He groaned and let his head fall back onto the cushions.

 

“Do I owe you an apology for anything? I was with my brother last night and I get kind of stupid around Sam.”

 

“To be honest the night provided enough amusement for me to forgive you the destruction.”

 

“I destroyed something? Dammit. I’m swearing off alcohol. Do you want some coffee?” Dean fired off the statements rapid, not waiting for an answer before he stood abruptly and went into the kitchen, refusing to admit that it was less about a need for coffee and more about a need for Castiel not to be privy to the blush infusing his face with bright red color. The latter man followed him and took a seat at the kitchen table, leaning forward on his elbows as he refreshed Dean on some of the details that Jack Daniel’s had stolen from him.

 

“It’s fine, really. We had a wonderful service. The plants said a few words. Tears were shed by the bees. It was all--quite lovely.”

 

“You’re enjoying this too much.” Dean growled and wondered about the way his stomach kind of clenched at the sound of Castiel’s snickering little laugh.

 

“Honestly? Best night of my week.” Cas said with a wide grin.

 

“Glad I could be of service.” They lapsed into a weird kind of silence. It felt--heavy Dean thought but scrunched his nose up at the idea because that didn’t make sense. Two men who shared only a very small span of acquaintance did not have heavy silences.

 

“Oh!” Cas exclaimed as he fished Dean’s phone out of his pocket and moved to hand it across to him. Only he fumbled part of the way through and it banged against the edge of table once before hitting the floor. Cas bent to pick it up only to have his foot spasm at the worst time and kick it out of reach. “I’ll just--” He made a vague hand gesture and then he was on his knees under the table.

 

“Cas, you don’t have to--” Dean started, determined to get the man out from under the table. The way that their chairs had been positioned meant that Cas being in the floor directly in front of his also put him at eye level with Dean’s crotch and while Dean didn’t think Cas was paying such close attention to the fact, Dean hadn’t put on any underwear and sweatpants were notoriously bad at hiding--shapes. Cas seemed to have frozen in place and Dean cleared his throat loudly as he shifted in his chair. The only problem with that being it seemed to startle the other man who jerked upright so hard that he cracked the back of his head against the table and Dean didn’t have to worry about him getting a good _look_ at his crotch because he fell face first into it and he got a good _feel_  of it instead.

 

“Son of a--” Dean pushed back in surprise and his chair skittered over the tile. Cas flailed for a moment to catch his balance and then pitched forward again. Without Dean’s lap there to stop his fall, this time his nose came down hard on the floor and made a sickening _crrrunch _.__

 

“Fucking fucker.” Castiel cried out and Dean caught sight of the blood pooling under his face before he even sat up, sticky red seeping between his fingers. Dean’s head swam briefly as the heavy iron scent of it burned his nostrils.

 

“Shit. Let me see it.” He leaned forward, catching his fingers on the sleeve of Castiel’s shirt and pulling him forward across the floor.

 

“I really don’t think that’s necessary I--” Dean gripped Castiel’s wrist tightly and pulled it away. A thick clot dropped onto Castiel’s upper lip and Dean failed to notice the coloring draining rapidly out of his face. “I don’t feel so good.”

 

“That’s because your nose is broken. I can fix it.” Dean was cupping Cas face, holding him still as he leaned close and brought his free hand up, framing the appendage in question between his thumb and index finger. “It’s going to hurt so--”

 

Cas’s eyes rolled back into his head and he choked up a mouthful of vomit before going limp. Dean tried to catch him, but he was perched precariously on the edge of his chair so he just ended up sliding down out of it and into the floor along side of the out-cold Castiel.

 

“No more.” Dean swore out loud, chocking this entire ridiculous day up to karma. “No more alcohol. Ever.”

 

***** 

 

Dean used the time that Castiel spent unconscious to reset his nose. It was going bruise something terrible, but at least the bones were all in the right place again. Next he dragged Castiel away from the foul puddle of vomit and gave his face and chest a once over. Both were covered in blood, and guessing that it was the blood that had caused the syncopal episode, Dean wrestled the man out of the shirt and wadded it up to hide the reddish brown stains. Finally he mopped over the floor, washed his hands and changed into a fresh pair of pants being that his were covered in two of Castiel’s body fluids that were better left on the inside of him. When Cas still hadn’t came to by the time he made it back into the kitchen he took the time to check his pulse. It was steady so Dean told himself not to worry and give it time.

 

While he waited he decided it was late enough in the afternoon to start work on supper. When he finally heard his visitor begin to stir, he was most of the way through prepping the vegetables he would need for Taco Soup.

 

“Hey, you feeling okay?” He asked over his shoulder, watching as Castiel gingerly felt around his nose and then use one of the chairs to get slowly to his feet.

 

“Other than the intense shame and humiliation you mean? I’m fine.” His voice was lower than usual and Dean bet that was what it sounded like when he’d just woken up in the morning. He pushed the thought aside.

 

“Bathroom is that way if you want to--” Dean trailed off and motioned to his own face in an indication that Cas may want to wash his own. Castiel nodded once and disappeared in that direction. Left alone again Dean fished the cause of all this trouble out from under the table. He had a few missed calls from Sam and Charlie had texted him the address to a comic store she wanted him to meet her at. He called Sam first. “You will not believe my day.”

 

“Had to be better than mine.” They compared stories quickly, Sam laughing hysterically when his older brother shared what started out as naked greeting his boss and ended with him sitting in a puddle of puke being bled on. “You win. Drinks are on me.”

 

“Oh, no. Alcohol got me into this mess.” Dean snorted into the phone and relayed his vow to give up the evil Satan juice. Sam wrung an agreement out of him to keep him updated on the situation and then hung up. Dean sent Charlie a text saying he’d been caught up.

 

_C : Caught up doing what? Beating off to lame tentacle porn._

_D : You know me too well ;)_

_C : Gross!_

 

“I say this makes us even.” Dean looked up from the text exchange and found Cas wringing his hands in the doorway. He smiled at him and shrugged his shoulders.

 

“If by even you mean we are both equally sized assholes then I’d agree.” He pointed to the t-shirt he had laid over a chair and put his phone away to turn back to the carrots he had been cutting. “You should still see a doctor about your nose.”

 

“Yeah, it’s pretty gnarly looking.” Dean snorted and looked over his shoulder.

 

“Gnarly? Are you fifteen?”

 

“Shut up.” Cas laughed and Dean watched him finger a hole he’d found on the hem of the shirt he’d lent him. It was one of Dean’s favorites, faded black and advertising ‘Led Zeppelin World Tour 1971’. It was a little too big on him and Dean’s stomach did that weird clenching thing again. “So I’ve returned your phone and a bit more than that. I guess I should get going.”

 

Dean nodded slowly and then “You hungry?” Cas narrowed his eyes, mouth falling open in surprise. After a brief pause he nodded slowly. “Taco soup. Nothing special but--”

 

Rap music cut him off and Dean raised a brow at the ring tone choice. He was gratified in that Castiel at least looked embarrassed about it when he pulled his phone from his back pocket. “Hello, dear.” Dean frowned and he turned away. “No, I didn’t forget. I did not. Ok, fine, I forgot, but I’m on my way now. I know, I know. What? No, I’m not doing that. Because I said. Because I--we’ll talk about it later. Ok. Yes. Yes! Bye.” Finally, Castiel was quiet again. “Um, I guess I’ll have to skip the soup.”

 

“No, problem. Everything alright?” Dean pushed the carrots off of the cutting board and into the bubbling pot along with the other ingredients. He was doing a very good job of playing the nonchalant bystander.

 

“Yeah, I was supposed to be at a soccer game twenty minutes ago. That was my reminder that I’m ‘hella super’ late.” Cas smiled and Dean smiled back.

 

“Right. Well, thanks for the delivery. Not so much for the clean up on aisle 2.” He walked Cas to the door and, not knowing what else to do, held out his hand. The other man shook it cordially. “See you at work Monday.”

 

“Yeah. Yeah.” Castiel nodded, waved and turned away. Dean made to close the door, but stopped when Cas blurted out “Do you have horses?”

 

“Um…?” Brow furrowed, Dean looked past Cas’s head to the very visible group of horses circled around a watering trough. He nodded slowly. “Yes?”

 

“Right, I meant to say I see you have horses. I figured you did as I was driving up because of all the um, fields, but now there they are and--wow you have horses! I didn’t really picture you as the type.”

 

“I..I wasn’t really until I bought this place. It was the first house the real estate agent showed me and I liked the um, the porch swing and the attic has a really big window that I like to paint in front of and--”

 

“You paint?” Cas bit his lip after the outburst. Dean rubbed his neck sheepishly and shrugged.

 

“Not very well.” He smiled.

 

“I bet that’s not true.” Castiel’s voice was soft and Dean blushed for the second time that day and hated himself for it. Why was he devolving into a middle school girl at the dance with her first crush?

 

“Aren’t you late?” He said, positive he had rubbed a raw spot on the back of his neck. Cas jolted and checked his watch.

 

“Shit, yes. I should--I’m going. Bye, Dean.”

 

“See ya later, Cas.” He watched him nearly trip down the stairs and then again when the walkway met the small drive and he swallowed back a laugh. “Hey, Cas.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Rain check on the soup. I can even introduce you to the horses. If you want.”

 

“That’d be great!” Cas waved again and then drove away. Dean shook his head and went back inside. What a day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys!!! You are all so amazing. Thank you tagging along on this hot mess of a ride :)


	7. Come on honey Let me know

Despite the rough start to the weekend and the headache that persisted in his body’s effort to remind him that he was forty fucking years old and he needed to slow down on the drinking and the blacking out and the fighting to the death with potted plants, Dean decided that he could still turn things around and end things productively. On Sunday, he woke early with the intention of heading to the rec center.

 

He threw together a lunch and loaded it into his truck along side his toolbox before making the drive over. He was greeted at the door by Jody Mills, the local sheriff who spent her weekend days running an activity camp for at risk youth. He smiled at her warmly, accepting her offered hug with ease. The two had become good friends in the eight months he that he had been volunteering. She beamed at him as they fell in to step together.

 

“Here’s your honey-do list for the day.” She joked, passing him a sheet of paper covered in chicken scratch. He gave it a once over and smirked at her.

 

“Not asking much are you.” Truly, the list wasn’t half as bad as it could be. The center was underfunded and understaffed, if it weren’t for the few good Samaritans who took an interest in keeping the place going it would have been bulldozed years ago and the space used as yet another mini-golf station or smoothie-king site. Some of the window unit air conditioners needed servicing, the girls bathroom had a toilet that wasn’t running, someone had thrown a rock through one of the windows in the reading room, and they’d had to shut the pool down because the filtration system seemed to have gotten jammed. He could take care of most of those things easily and at the very least patch up the window with more than just a plastic garbage sack until he could make it to the hardware store for replacement panes.

 

“Also not listed are the flickering lights in the basement. That is creepy shit, Dean. Look at those first.” Jody wagged a finger at him and winked before heading off. Dean got to work. It was well into the afternoon before he stopped for a break, he went to the bathroom first, he was filthy and wanted to wash up before eating his sandwich and chips. He found himself in a surprisingly good mood and hummed quietly to himself as he stood in front of the sink.

 

“If you really need me, just reach out and touch me, honey come on let me know.” Dean’s face flushed pink at the gravelly voice that harmonized with his humming and he turned with dripping hands to be greeted by a delighted looking Castiel. His face was badly bruised from his mishap in Dean’s kitchen and he had a butterfly band-aid taped across his nose. “Rod Stewart? I wouldn’t have thought it to be so.”

 

“We seem to keep running in to each other at the worst possible moments.” Dean muttered, rubbing his face, flushed with mortification. Castiel’s mouth turned down on one side and his brows shot up.

 

“Worst or best? Cause I’ve got to say…finding you here humming crappy music off key is kind of falling into my ‘good things’ box.” Dean realized then that Cas was not exactly in a state of full dress. Specifically he wasn’t wearing a shirt and his shorts were…floral and stopped mid thigh in that weird frat boy type of way. Dean watched a bead of water slide off of his jaw onto his collar bone and then join with a second bead as it followed the planes of his chest and disappeared into his navel. Dean blinked. Was he--was he checking out Cas? A confused frown formed on his face. Also--

 

“Man, you kind of smell.” Dean wrinkled his nose as the soured smell registered and Cas made a face that probably matched his own.

 

“Yes, well…I got pushed into the pool. Which apparently has been out of commission for a while.” He shrugged at Dean and moved to the sink nearest him. Dean took an involuntary step back, putting distance between himself and the stink. Cas grinned and flicked water at him. “Come on, it’s not that bad.”

 

“No, man. It really is. So what are you doing here anyway? You’re not exactly from this neighborhood.” Dean leaned casually against the wall fighting an all out war in his head to keep his eyes on Cas’s face. He didn’t mean the question in an insulting way and he hoped the man didn’t take it that way, it was just that Dean had seen where Cas lived and knew that being headmaster at Nor Prep came with a six figure tax bracket. Him being here was the literal definition of slumming it.

 

“Actually, I am. I grew up a few streets over from here, I volunteer when I can and I’d much rather spend my money on membership here where it can do some good than at some fancy country club.” He sounded defensive and Dean was quick to reassure him that he hadn’t mean to be rude to which Cas waved off. “No, I know. I know what you meant.” He smiled and then bent over the sink and splashed cool, clean water onto his face. Dean’s eyes trailed after another water droplet. He flushed again upon realizing that Cas had caught his wandering eye and he did the mature thing about it.

 

“What’s with the fucking shorts, man.” Cas looked down at himself like he had no idea what the problem was.

 

“Don’t judge me!” He joked and in his head Dean thought to himself, doing my best not to objectify you, dude, gotta focus on one thing at a time. “Careful or your face is going to get stuck like that.”

 

Dean glanced at himself in the mirror, taking note of the scowl pasted there and attempted to school is features into a more relaxed position. It was just that--Dean had never been attracted to other men. So why couldn’t he keep his eyes off of those ridiculous fucking hip bones Cas’s too low shorts were so obscenely displaying?

 

“So what about you? Why are you here? You aren’t exactly dressed for a workout.” Cas asked him waving to the jeans and t-shirt Dean was wearing.

 

“Honey-do list.” Dean offered in return to which Cas tilted his head in the most adorable way with a furrowed brow. No, not adorable, inquisitive. He tilted his head in an inquisitive way. “Um, Jody, you’ve probably met her around her since you said you volunteer sometimes. I come in on Sundays and she gives me these honey-do lists, you know things she wants me to get done.”

 

“Ah. I see. In that case I have this door at home that never quite sits right in the frame…” Cas trailed off and offered Dean a toothy grin to let him know he was kidding. Dean rolled his eyes. “Hey, I’m funny.”

 

“Sure, Cas.” Dean made a vague hand gesture like ‘yeah, yeah, whatever makes you feel good’ and he liked the way that Cas laughed about it. “So were you volunteering today?”

 

“Yes, actually I was working with some of Jody’s kids.”

 

“They pushed you in? Jody will kill them.”

 

“No, that would be my idiot brother Gabe. He’s troubled himself.” Cas, making the universal sign for crazy, twirled his finger around near his temple and flashed a smile. The bathroom door burst open then as if on cue and Cas groaned aloud. “Speak of the devil.”

 

“Cassie! What is taking you so long in here I--oh, hello there.” His eyes lit on Dean who shifted uncomfortable as the steady gaze lingered--all over him. “Who might you be?”

 

“Um, I’m Dean. You must be the trickster who pushed Cas into the pool.”

 

“Cas? That’s cute.” The man, Gabe, smirked at Dean and then nudged Cas with his elbow. “Meet a random man in the bathroom and he’s already giving you cute nicknames.”

 

“It’s not--he’s a friend from work.” Cas growled and he sounded positively violent.

 

“No one else calls you Cas?” Dean questioned, interrupting the argument brewing between the two brothers. “Do people actually go around calling you Castiel all the time?”

 

“Well, Gabriel aside, pretty much yes.”

 

“Hmm.” Dean wondered if being called Cas bothered him, he had never thought to ask before. It had to be better than Cassie though. At this moment his stomach chose to make known the fact that he had not eaten since breakfast. “Well, that’s my cue. Gabriel nice meeting you. Cas--tiel. It was good seeing you. Again.”

 

He was heading for the door, doing his best to ignore what sounded to be a scuffle going on behind him until Cas muttered a loud grunt of pain and Gabriel called his name, he only half turned in their direction.

 

“So, we were going to do really bad Chinese food from across the street for lunch, but silly me, completely forgot a prior engagement. Cassie could sure use a friend.” Gabriel’s eyes were lit up with amusement and Dean glanced from him to a very uncomfortable looking Cas. Gabriel elbowed him in the ribs and with a grunt Cas added:

 

“Yeah, yeah. The food is almost always terrible, but you’re welcome to join.” Dean suspected the invitation was being forced on him by his brother so he let him have an easy way out.

 

“I actually have a lot more to get done here today before I leave and I packed a lunch so--” He trailed off and Cas nodded, quickly jumping in to fill the silence.

 

“Right, yeah. Some other time.”

 

“Sure.” Dean waved to the two of them and slipped outside, hoping maybe he could find Jody so he wouldn’t have to eat his sandwich in silence.

 

***** 

 

“I don’t know, Dean. I’d have chosen the solitude.” Dean had found Jody with a group of ten or so kids ranging in age from eight to fourteen. They were sitting out on the grass, supposedly having a lunch break but it seemed to Dean that what they were really doing was losing their minds. The younger ones were running circles around each other yelling crazy words that didn’t make sense and the older ones sat off to the side and sneered at everything going on around them. Dean smiled at Jody and lifted one shoulder in a shrug.

 

“I don’t know. I’ve kind of always liked kids.”

 

“Yeah, me too.” Jody sighed wistfully and Dean wondered what the look on her face meant, but he didn’t want to pry so he bumped his arm against hers in a gesture of comfort.

 

“Um, hi Mr. Dean.” An undersized girl with a two missing front teeth and hair that didn’t look like it had been brushed this morning appeared at his side with a shy smile and Dean leaned down to get on her level. He’d met her once before and he thought her name was Katie.

 

“Hey there. Katie right?” She smiled shyly and nodded in reply.

 

“Can I eat lunch with you?” A strand of hair tangled around her finger as she stood there waiting for his reply, not quite meeting his eyes. Dean had a difficult time of it, but eventually he lowered himself onto the grass with his bad leg stretched out in front of him and he patted the grass nearby. Katie’s smile turned into a full blown grin as she took a seat next time him and looked at him expectantly. Oh, right. He was supposed to talk to her now.

 

“So you wanna hear a joke?”

 

“Is it a good joke? Cause last time you told me a reeeaaalllyyy bad one.” She giggled at his shocked expression. Dean clutched a hand over his heart and leaned against Jody’s legs for support.

 

“Can you believe that, Jod? She said I told a bad joke. Me!” Jody’s look of sympathy was aimed at Katie and not at Dean.

 

“I feel ya, girlfriend. He tells the worst jokes.”

 

“And ALWAYS laughs at them anyway.” Katie whispered back with an eye roll. “It’s pathetic.”

 

“You girls are mean.” Dean said and shook his head in mock disappointment.

 

“Sorry, Mr. Dean.” Katie said when her giggles had tapered off. “Always gotta tell your friends the truth.”

 

“I’m truly crushed.”

 

“Mind if I join you?” Dean looked up and to find Cas standing there holding a plastic bag which from the smell of it, actually did contain Chinese take out. He’d changed into a pair of clean shorts and added a shirt. He only very slightly smelled like sour pool water. Katie scooted closer to Dean and made the same patting motion on the grass that he had made to her.

 

“No Gabe?” Jody asked after joining them on the grass and calling out to the kids across the lawn that they had fifteen more minutes before they had to move on to character building exercises. For the young kids that meant coloring pictures they would hand deliver to the elderly home. For the older kids it meant working on their resumes and perusing the classifieds for positions they might be eligible for. Cas shook his head and pulled out a container full of lo mein. Dean bit in to his ham sandwich enviously.

 

“No, he had a ‘prior engagement’.” Cas’s gaze flitted across to Dean and then away again. Dean took another bite of his sandwich. Cas offered the box of noodles to him. When he didn’t immediately accept he added, “I have extras.” So Dean snatched the box and shoveled in a mouthful, barely containing his moan of enjoyment. When he opened his eyes all three of his companions stared at him with varied looks of amusement.

 

“What?” He asked through a mouthful. “It’s good.”

 

“It’s six dollar Chinese.” Cas teased.

 

“From across the street?” Jody inquired. Her face screwed up in disgust when Castiel nodded. “You know they barely passed their health inspection.”

 

“Let me live my life. Cas is eating it to!” Dean defended, scraping the last of the noodles out of the bottom of the box and licking his fork clean. Cas’s eyes had glazed over and he dropped them to his own box of food when Dean looked over and caught him staring.

 

“Yes, but I’m not making noises like I--”

 

“Hey, weren’t you going to tell Katie a joke.” Jody cut Cas off before he could say something inappropriate and he mouthed an apology and ruffled the little girls hair.

 

“Oh, right. Well--what did the pirate say on his 80th birhtday?” He asked seriously. Katie shook her head and leaned in with a little smile playing across her face.

 

“I don’t know! What?”

 

“Aye-matey!” Dean drawled in his best pirate accent, using his index finger to form a hook in true pirate fashion. Katie stared at him blankly. Cas chuckled. Jody raised an eyebrow at Cas.

 

“What…it was funny.”

 

“It was terrible.” Katie insisted.

 

“You can do better?” Dean smirked at her, confident that she couldn’t. Katie wiped crumbs from her lunch onto her pants and clasped her hands together, leaning in with narrowed eyes.

 

“What do you call a baby born to an elephant and a rhino?”

 

“Uh--no clue what?”

 

“Elefino.” For a moment there was only stunned silence and then Dean threw his head back and howled. He laughed with his whole body, eyes closed and shoulders shaking, he laughed until his eyes brimmed with tears. It was contagious laughter, Cas stared at him in amazement and then joined him, though not as uncontrollably and Jody cracked a smile of her own. Katie just sat there looking mighty smug for an eight year old.

 

“Awesome. That was awesome.” Dean wiped at the crinkled corners of his eyes, full blown grin still present on his face. “You win, kid.” She held out her fist and he bumped it with his own.

 

“Ok, Katie, let’s go wrangle these other crazy cats, how bout it?” Jody got up and gathered the remains of her lunch. Cas offered his empty Chinese sack for everyone to stuff their leftovers inside of. Jody moved off and began to round up the other kids. Katie stood and shifted anxiously on her feet. Dean nudged her and smiled.

 

“What’s up, Kades?”

 

“Thanks for letting me eat with you.” She bumped her mouth against his cheek and then sped away calling a squeaky goodbye over her shoulder. Dean’s heart melted a little.

 

“Yeah, me too. I won’t kiss you though.” Cas voice was teasing as he stood to his feet and offered Dean a hand up. Dean was not so macho that he couldn’t admit that the assistance was, while not necessary, extremely helpful. So he took the hand and made a little __hmphing__  sound as Cas pulled him up to his feet. Dean staggered and Cas steadied him by placing his free hand on the upper part of his chest. Dean sucked in a breath and leaned into the support.

 

“Th--uh thanks.” He straightened up, barely able to meet Cas’s eyes without feeling like something super weird was happening between them. Cas seemed to be waiting patiently for Dean’s gaze to settle on his so he really had no choice though.

 

“Don’t mention it.” He released Dean’s fingers slowly and stepped away, they really had been very close, too close, weirdly close. Had that been Dean’s fault? Personal space is a thing, Winchester, Dean reminded himself. His hand rubbed absently at the place on his chest Cas had been touching the moment before. “I guess I better help Jody. I’ve got the smallest brats and we have star wars coloring sheets today. It’s gonna be wild.” He wagged his eyebrows at Dean with one of __those__  smiles, the kind that showed off every tooth in his head as well as a good amount of gum. “If I run in to you again before work tomorrow I’m filing a stalking report, Winchester.”

 

“Good luck with that, Novak. Seeing has how you’re the one who filched my address like a creeper and cornered me in a bathroom with your shirt off…”

 

“Fuck you.” Cas laughed quietly as he backed away. “You’re an ass.”

 

“Guilty.” Dean held his hands up, his face entirely unapologetic with a cheeky smile plastered all over it.

 

“Don’t you have stuff to do around here?”

 

Dean did indeed have stuff to do. At the top of the list, he told himself sternly, was to stop watching Castiel walk away.


	8. Hold my Hand, i can hear the Ghosts Coming

__One Tuesday a few weeks later Dean had just finished locking down the school and was making his way to the truck (which he was driving because Baby had been making a funny noise Monday and he had left her home for rest and recuperation after spending several hours Tuesday knocking around under her hood) when something hard hit him in the back of the head.

 

“Son of a bitch.” He grumbled and rubbed the stinging spot under his hair as he turned around to find Charlie whistling innocently with her hands shoved in the pockets of her plaid slacks. “Well that was just rude.”

 

“Can you fix my car? I can’t get it to start.”

 

“Well, since you asked so nicely…”

 

“Please? I’m sorry I hit you. I was aiming for the shoulder and well--let’s just say these hands have a lot better aim in post nuke Boston than real life.” Charlie gave him her most winning smile.

 

“Let me grab my tools.” He grabbed the toolbox from the back and followed her over to a beat up green monstrosity. “This is just sad.”

 

“It’s a classic.” She said, chest puffed out as she ran a finger over the hood.

 

“It’s a Pinto.” Dean snorted. He popped the hood and was dismayed to note that it was mostly held together with duct tape and false hope. “Charlie…”

 

“I know, I know. It looks worse than it is.”

 

“I don’t think so, kid.” He muttered. He tweaked around with hoses and gaskets as best he could and came out with a grim expression. “She flatlined. We lost her.”

 

Charlie slapped his arm and he didn’t even try to hide his laugh. “Not funny!”

 

“It’s just your alternator. Pretty easy fix considering.”

 

“Considering what exactly, Winchester?” She raised an eyebrow and glared, daring him to insult her car one more time. He grinned impishly and shrugged.

 

“Need a ride home?”

 

 

“Do you want to come in?”

 

“On a first date? I’m not that kind of girl.” Dean dodged her strike this time and turned off the truck. “I could visit.”

 

Charlie lived in an apartment in the middle of downtown and Dean was honestly surprised when they walked inside. It was--stuffy. Nothing at all like a place he would have expected Charlie to live. The furniture was all lined up in neat little patterns and there was not a single nerd poster up anywhere.

 

“So I was thinking we order pizza and watch the new Star Wars. And don’t even pretend you aren’t a fan because I’ve picked up on your nerdy little references you think no one pays attention to.”

 

“The new one isn’t even out yet.” He said, toeing his shoes off at the door, not wanting to muck up the pristine white carpet, before he followed her to the couch.

 

“I have my ways, Deenie.” Three hours later the pizza mostly gone and the movie finished, the two friends sat discussing it’s merits and short falls, Dean arguing that the latter didn’t exist, Charlie flicking him on the forehead and demanding he open up his fan boy eyes. The door banged open behind them and Dean jolted to his feet, expecting to have to defend Charlie from an intruder. A very small intruder.

 

“Babe! I thought you were working late.” Charlie rose along side him, smiling at the woman at the door. “I just showed Dean the new Star Wars, he loved the Reylo developments, unsurprisingly.”

 

“Dean?” The woman drawled, hanging her purse and keys on hooks next to the door. She eyed Dean’s dirty work boots with distaste. He already didn’t like her. Not because of the shoes, but because of the way Charlie seemed to have wilted in to a lesser version of herself.

 

“That would be me.”

 

“Yes, the janitor.” She looked him over and shrugged a shoulder. “How nice to meet you.” She flicked her eyes to Charlie and Dean expected he wasn’t meant to notice how they narrowed just slightly before she went into the kitchen, but he did and it pissed him off.

 

“Um, that was Dor, Dorothy. My girlfriend.”

 

“She seems…” Dean trailed off, unsure how to proceed. Charlie barged in before he could anyway.

 

“She’s probably had a long day. She works over at the, um, the emergency care center on the East side. She gets a lot of weirdos looking for drugs or something.”

 

“Ok.” Dean said quietly. He didn’t believe her and he could tell that she didn’t believe herself all that much either. He smiled in an attempt to make her feel better. “I should probably head out. It’s supposed to storm later tonight and I should get the horses settled in the barn.”

 

“Yeah, ok. Thanks for coming over. Next time I’ll show you the unaired footage I dug up from--”

 

“Charlie, I’m getting in the shower. Did you plan on cooking dinner tonight or did you ruin your appetite with meatlover’s and cheap beer?” Dean bit down so hard on his tongue to keep the foul words rolling around in his head from spilling out that the sharp taste of blood filled his mouth.

 

“Oh, I--I was going to make chicken parm.” Dorothy looked at her blankly and then nodded and left the room. “She--she’s usually--”

 

“It’s ok, Charlie.” Dean gave her an impromptu hug and dropped a kiss on the top of her head before heading to his shoes. “If your free another day this week you can come to my house. I don’t have bootleg movies, but I do make a mean lasagna.”

 

Charlie beamed at him and he could see the appreciation glowing in her eyes. She was grateful that he wasn’t saying anything about her awful girlfriend. “That sounds cool. And I can meet Della.”

 

Della was the oldest mare that Dean had inherited when he had purchased the house and he had told Charlie all about her crazy old woman antics. Like the time she played dead and Dean had called 911 in a panic because he didn’t know anything about animals. Charlie loved her and had never even laid eyes on her.

 

“Awesome. See you, Charlie.”

 

*****

 

People don’t realize just how much a thunderstorms can sound like a combat zone. The rain came down in sheets, pinging against the roof like thousands of empty rifle shells. Lighting flashed in past the curtains Dean had did is best to close up. In his eyes it became the flash of a muzzle that mowed down countless numbers of his comrades in a hundred different fire fights. The thunder boomed and had someone been there to notice, they would find the bed sheets twisted in knots and Dean no where to be found.

 

He had hidden in his closet when he’d woken up from the first round of nightmares, brain still fogged from the sleeping pills he had taken before lying down for the night in an effort to head off this entire situation. He was curled up in the fetal position under a pile of clothes he’d ripped off of their hangars when he’d tripped and clawed his way through the dark, both his prosthetic and crutch forgotten on the chest at the end of his bed.

 

A small part of his brain knew that none of the things he was seeing were real, but that small part was quickly overshadowed by the terror that somehow he was back in that hellscape where he had left his friends.

 

_“Dean!” Garth’s voice broke the past the high pitched ringing in his ears left behind by the grenade that had exploded to their left. Dean shook his head, trying to clear the remainder of the disturbance, but in the end he just turned his good ear toward Garth instead so that he could hear as he repeated what he had been trying to say. “I count twelve!”_

_“Flank, flank, flank!” Dean yelled over the scattered weapon fire. His three comrades split up and Dean squeezed off a few rounds at their backs, taking out two insurgents to the right. Behind a partially collapsed wall he saw the end of a gun aimed at Benny’s back and he ran. When he rounded on what he thought was one man he was met with two and he popped off three shots before flinging his empty rifle to the sand and lunging for the second man with his knife out. They scuffled in the dirt, Dean lost his knife and then felt a sharp tug at the grenade on his hip and. He wrestled it out of the Iraqi man’s grasp and tossed it away. He scrambled toward the man’s gun, swung it up and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. His opponent was reaching for a side arm and Dean lurch forward, cracking him in the head with the butt of the gun. Over and over he slammed the weapon into the man’s skull. The resistance was gone, the bones shattered under the onslaught of Dean’s assault. A hand dropped heavily onto his shoulder and Dean swung around with a yell, ready to defend himself, not sure if he would succeed this time. Benny grabbed the end of the gun and pulled it out of his grasp._

_“It’s done, brother. It’s over.” For now, Dean thought, but he let his friend pull him to his feet. His hands shook and he threw the bloody weapon to the dirt at his feet and leaned down with his forearms on his thighs. Splattered blood mixed with the sweat on his face and a rivulet made its way on to the seam of his mouth. He spit it out and rubbed violently at the grime on his face. “Hey, hey, its done. Its fine.” Benny grabbed his arms and shook him once, hard._

_“Y-yeah ok. Alright.” Dean closed his eyes and breathed. His heart wouldn’t stop pounding, he couldn’t calm down. The adrenaline sang in his blood and made him antsy. “Over. It’s ov--” The smile of encouragement was still on Benny’s face as his blood exploded out of the side of his neck. He staggered forward on his feet and Dean caught him with limp arms, they both fell to the ground. “NOOO!”_

_“There!” Jo screamed, scrambling for her rifle. Garth brought his up first and fired. The last man went down, no one had seen him. Dean hadn’t seen him, and now…_

_“Come on, Benny. Come on.” He laid his friend out on his back and held on hard to the gushing hole in his neck. His friends face was drained of color and when he tried to speak, frothy blood bubbled up at his lips. “You--you’ve made it through worse, man. You’re not dying here. You can’t die here!”_

_“B-b--” Benny coughed violently, blood gargled up in his throat and refused to let him force out the words. The corner of his mouth lifted just slightly and his fingers trailed over Dean’s face once before his uplifted hand dropped to the sand and his body went lax in Dean’s arms._

__

Outside the rain continued to fall. A round of thunder drowned out Dean’s scream of agony as he dragged himself out of the nightmare and slammed his fist into the wall, already battered by a hundred other nights spent just the same way.

 

 

 

 

Dean had spent the rest of the night sitting in the shower, Hey Jude playing on repeat from his phone. Before she died his mother used to sing it to him when he had bad dreams or wasn’t feeling good and in adulthood it still pulled off the trick of soothing him. He was running on barely three hours of sleep, but he managed to get himself dressed and headed in to work.

 

He was sitting in the front office working on his second cup of coffee when Cas showed up around six thirty. He seemed to recognize that Dean was having a rough morning, and moved around the office quietly as he made his cup of tea and leaned up against the counter near where Dean’s chair was.

 

“You alright?” He implored finally, when his tea was mostly gone and the silence had stretched between them long enough. His voice was a murmur, just loud enough to hear and the intimacy the tone provided had Dean closing his eyes and sighing.

 

“Didn’t sleep so well last night.” He hated the vulnerability that saturated and thickened his voice to a croak of raw emotion. He brought his hand to his face and covered his eyes. Fuck, he was going to cry. He really didn’t want to cry. Cas’s footsteps were silent on the carpet and Dean hadn’t even noticed he had crossed over to him until his hand was on Dean’s knee. Dean didn’t get the impression that he was asking him to talk about it, like Sam would have done, he was just lending support, letting Dean know that he was there. His shoulders shook silently and the tears came in waves that he didn’t try to control.

 

It was not very often that he allowed himself to feel the fullness of his loss or the heaviness of the memories of his last tour of duty, his last day with the family he had created for himself. It was a burden he carried with him daily, the lives of his three friends that he was responsible for snuffing out too soon. He had gotten used to way it settled on his shoulders and in his heart and he carried it without complaint. He had learned to control the way it affected him and it was very rare for him to lose his grip and allow it to crush him. Today he just didn’t have the strength.

 

When the worst of it had passed, Dean wiped his hands down his face, clearing the wetness that had gathered there and opened his eyes. Cas knelt at his feet, hand on his knee applying a gentle pressure, his face was warm and open, only the knit between his brows gave away the fact that he was worried. They were so close together that Dean could feel each breath Cas was releasing and oddly that closeness and the fact that they were sharing the same air was more of a comfort to him than anything else. He wondered why it had been so hard for him to let every other person in his life get close to him again after coming home, but here he was with Cas, whom he had only known a few months, and he was completely at ease.

 

Cas remained unmoving, waiting instead for him to make the first move of pulling away. Dean studied the depths of the blue in his eyes. They started out dark at the edges and lightened as he moved inward toward the pupil’s--which began to dilate more each second Dean gazed at them. He should--he should--

 

“I should--” He started, but he didn’t know where he was going so he stopped again. He followed the tip of Cas’s tongue as it moved across his slightly chapped lips and found himself responding to the tilt of Cas’s lips as they turned up into a smile. He chuckled and shook his head at the sheer stupidity of the moment. “Um, I feel a little better now.”

 

“Good.” Cas intoned, grin widening impishly. “That’s good.” Dean was not disappointed when the other man rose to his feet and moved away. At least he told himself he wasn’t. His eyes had that tight feeling of drying tears and he rubbed at his face again to loosen it. Ok, Winchester, get it together. He jumped when Cas spoke again. “Sure about that?”

 

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks.” He assured him with an emphatic nod. Cas gave him a thumbs up and headed to the door of his office, stopping short when Dean called out to him. “How about that rain check?”

 

“Rain check?”

 

“The soup? Well, not soup exactly, but I’m, uh, having friends over for a-a-a dinner of sorts. Just like food and, uh, hanging out. You should--I mean you can come. If you want.” He sounded like an idiot. “And uh, if you want to bring someone you can--you can do that.”

 

“Sure!” Cas replied brightly, amusement written all over his face at the flustered way Dean was behaving. He told himself again to pull it together. “When is it?”

 

“When is it?” It was a valid question, but considering that Dean didn’t have a fucking clue it was also a question without an answer. “Um, Saturday. It’s Saturday.”

 

“Sounds good. Have a great day, Dean.” Cas winked at him and closed the door to his office.

 

“Shit.” Dean muttered to himself as he followed suit and went about his day. He pulled his phone out when he was far enough away that he didn’t think Cas would overhear him.

 

“Dean, what a surprise.” Jess bubbled through the phone, assuaging Dean’s fear that he had called way to early in the day.

 

“I need your help.” He sounded like Morgan Freeman playing the president in a Bruce Willis action movie.

 

“Oookay. What’s up? You sound weird.”

 

“I invited someone to a dinner party--”

 

“Like a date?” She interrupted excitedly and Dean groaned.

 

“Ye--no! I think he--”

 

“He? You invited a guy on a date?” She sounded even more excited now and Dean huffed into the phone. “I’m sorry, I’ll shut up. Go on.”

 

“It’s not a date. I said it was a dinner party--thing.” He explained his dilemma and waited as she thought it over.

 

“No big deal. We’ll bring the kids, you bring your not a date and--”

 

“I don’t want him to feel like he’s meeting my family.” He argued, unsurprised when she shushed him.

 

“So invite another friend.”

 

“I don’t have other friends. Well--Charlie. I can invite Charlie.”

 

“Good, so invite Charlie and we’ll bring the kids and if the weather is good we can grill some steaks and burgers.” She sounded calm and collected, far away from how Dean felt.

 

“What if the weather isn’t good?”

 

“Then we’ll do steaks on the stove and play some board games or something. Dean--breathe.” She laughed and Dean thought he heard her clapping her hands. “Are you sure it’s not a--”

 

“It’s not a date!” He snapped at her which only encouraged her laughter. “Don’t tell Sam it’s a date.” She heard his distress then and he felt like a child when she sighed.

 

“Sam wouldn’t care if it was.”

 

“Still…”

 

“I won’t tell Sam it’s a date. But--if it turns into a date type situation you have to tell me first.”

 

“Fine.”

 

“Fine.”

 

“Hey, Jess?” He softened his voice and finally smiled. “Thanks.”

 

“Anytime, big brother.” She air kissed through the phone and hung up.


	9. under The light of a thousand Stars

“Dean…Dean…Dean!” Dean flicked off the vacuum and looked expectantly at Jess who smirked at him from the couch where she was sitting with her feet propped on the coffee table. “I think you got that bit already.” Dean glared at her and went to turn the vacuum back on. “It’s not a date though.” She mumbled under her breath, entirely unimpressed by Dean’s indignant growl.

 

“Leave me alone.” He wound the vacuum cord around it’s holder and dragged it over to the closet.

 

“You sound just like Gracie when she isn’t allowed a second piece of cake after supper.” Jess mused, flicking a finger over the screen of her phone.

 

“Yeah, well you sound like you--don’t get…cake.”

 

“Will you just sit down? Safe space, D.”

 

“Safe space my ass.” He growled but he dropped onto the couch next to her and crossed his arms over his chest. Jess grinned at him cheekily.

 

“You know if it turns in to a date, your ass might not be a--”

 

“Uh, ew, can we not?” Charlie breezed back in from the guest bathroom where Dean had banished her with gloves, lemon scented cleaning spray, and a rag. “But I do agree with Jessica. The house is clean. Can we stop running around like headless chickens and relax?”

 

“I just--”

 

“We know!” The two women yelled together. Dean cracked a smile.

 

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop.”

 

Saturday had arrived with sunshine and blue skies. Dean woke up sick to his stomach with nervousness and called Jess to let her talk him out of canceling the whole event. She’d come over ahead of Sam and the kids, who were going to stop at the grocery store and pick up a few things Dean didn’t have in the kitchen. Charlie showed up next, made feeble excuses as to why Dorothy hadn’t accompanied her, and put a case of cheap wine coolers in the fridge. For most of the morning she and Jess had sat on the couch and talked about Dean’s ridiculous determination to deny his enormous crush on his boss. Charlie then pulled up her Instagram to let Jess ooh and ahh over the handfuls of photos Castiel had shared on his account. Dean refused to admit how curious he was to see the photos himself and went about his business of cleaning.

 

“This man is seriously cute, D!” Jess had called to him which was the catalyst for him sending Charlie into the bathroom and getting the vacuum out to drown out Jess’s teasing voice.

 

Now, Dean bounced his leg up and down to rid himself of nervous energy and waited for the rest of his guests to arrive. Meaning Cas, he waited for Cas.

 

Sam showed up first and after a little debate decided to fire up the grill and throw the steaks on while Jess and Charlie worked on wrapping the potatoes and popped them in the oven to start baking. After checking his watch twelve times, the knot forming in his stomach told Dean Cas has backed out and he wasn’t going to show. Instead of fretting about it he took Michael and Gracie out to the barn and let the two of them fill up buckets of seed to take to the horses.

 

“Unca D, Math, Math!” Michael demanded running on chubby legs to the fence where one of the mares whose name was Maxine was standing, bobbing her head up and down the way she did when she heard the feed bucket. Max was Michael’s favorite.

 

“Alrighty, Bubba. Hold your horses.” Dean sniggered at his own joke and followed after them. He stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled shrilly a few times to gain the attention of the other horses. He scooped Michael up and helped him hold his feed bucket up for Max to dip her nose into.

 

“Uncle Dean, can we ride today?” Gracie asked him as she held her own bucket up to let Della nose around in it.

 

“We’ll have to ask your dad, kiddo, but I don’t see why not.” He smiled at her excited dancing and ruffled her hair. “Hold it steady, Gracie Grace face.” He told her when the bucket wobbled with her antics and Della nickered in protest.

 

“Hey! Someone else is here.” Grace dropped her bucket and started toward the house at a run.

 

“Watch it, Grace!”

 

“Not stupid, Uncle Dean!” She yelled back to him, staying well into the grass and away from the road. Dean recognized Cas’s car and the butterflies came back. Not butterflies. Butterflies were stupid. He set Michael on his shoulders so that he could finish dumping the seed out into the troughs lined up along the fence where they stood. It was a touch difficult with one hand hanging on to a squirming kid but he managed, finished, he took a deep breath and headed to greet the newest arrival.

 

*****

 

“Meg…it’s a joy to see you.” Dean deadpanned when he reached the house with to find that the friend Cas had brought with him was Meg Masters, possibly Dean’s least favorite coworker. She flashed her teeth in a way that was not entirely pleasant.

 

“Aw shucks, Dean, you know how melt a girls heart.” Cas ducked his head to hide a smile. Dean narrowed his eyes when the mischievous blues met his again. Something told Dean he knew exactly what he’d done bringing the annoying bottle blonde to the cookout.

 

“Unca D, p-play!” Michael banged his hands on top of Dean’s head bringing all attention to focus on him. “P-play!”

 

“Okay, big buy.” Dean tugged on the toddlers pants leg and pressed a finger to his ear. “Air command this is starship, we are lifting off in 3-2-1.” Michael screamed as Dean took off in a semi jog, not caring if he looked stupid, only wanting to hear the gurgling laugh from above him. “Oh, no! Starship is going--going--going down!” He plucked Michael off of his shoulders and tossed him up into the air, letting him fall half way down before catching him and setting him on his feet.

 

“My turn, Unca D?” Meg drawled with flashing eyes.

 

“Sure.” Dean replied with a shrug. “Any excuse to send you flying.”

 

“D, don’t be rude to guests.” Jessica waddled over from the porch and looped her arm through his. “Hi, I’m Jess. You must be Castiel.” Her smile was wicked as she gave him a once over. Dean’s face reddened when her eyes flitted back to him and she wagged her brows. Pregnant or not…he stepped on her foot.

 

“Yes, hi. This is my friend Meg. The animosity is probably my fault. She and Dean are kind of like the kids on the playground who flirt with each other by throwing sand.”

 

“It’s not flirting!” Dean sputtered with a horrified grimace on his face.

 

“You wish, big boy.” Meg winked at him and he faked throwing up in his mouth.

 

“Very mature.” Jess rolled her eyes and held a hand out to Meg. “Care to join us girls inside, Meg?”

 

“Momma, can I stay with Uncle Dean?” Gracie twirled a blonde strand of hair around her finger and gazed adoringly up at Cas. Her wanting to stay outside had nothing at all to do with Dean.

 

“Maybe later, sweetie. Let’s go show Meg around the house.” Grace pouted but she chased her little brother off toward the house with Jess and Meg trailing after them.

 

Dean stuck his hands in his pockets and smiled at Cas. “You just had to do it didn’t you?”

 

“What?” Cas replied innocently, copying his stance. “You don’t like Meg?”

 

“Hmph.” Dean’s pout rivaled Grace’s, but it was short lived because when Cas laughed at him he couldn’t help but smile. “She’s alright.”

 

“Good to know. She’s my best friend, it’d be nice if you two got along.”

 

“Why’s that?” Dean questioned, falling in to step beside Cas and leading him around the back of the house where Sam was manning the grill.

 

“Oh, you know.” Cas stuttered, waving his hands vaguely. “If we hang out more she--she’ll be around and it’d be good if we could all be…um, friends.”

 

“Right.” Dean drawled. Cas rolled his eyes and pushed ahead so that he reached Sam first.

 

“Good to see you sober.” He joked. Sam laughed and shook his head.

 

“I promise, this is me ninety percent of the time.”

 

Dean pulled a beer out of the nearby cooler and offered it to Cas.

 

“Thanks.” He twisted the cap off easily and tucked in line on the porch rail where Dean and Sam had formed a bit of a collection over the course of the nights the spent talking out there. One day, the pyramid was going to collapse, but for now it looked pretty awesome. Cas took a long pull from the bottle and Dean grew flustered upon realizing that he was staring very hard at the way Cas’s lips shaped the mouth of the glass and the way his throat moved as he swallowed. To distract himself, he opened his own beer and downed half of it.

 

“You a cowboys fan, Cas?” Sam asked. He flipped the burgers and closed the grill hood then dropped into the hair next to Dean’s.

 

“More of a baseball guy myself.” Cas chuckled at Dean’s wounded look. “Did I just discover the eighth deadly sin?”

 

“In this family---” Sam and Dean looked at each other and finished Dean’s sentence at the same time, “Yes.”

 

“We’ve been banned from the living room.” Sam added, looking sullen as he pointed to a tablet he had propped up on the ledge of the window. “But we’ve got live stream so--”

 

“You can always come inside with us, Mr. Cas.” All three men turned to find Gracie standing just in sight behind the screen door, twirling her hair around her finger and turning from side to side. Cas smiled broadly at her.

 

“Thank-you very much miss--”

 

“Gracie.” She giggled, as he bowed low to her.

 

“Miss Gracie. But I think if you wanted to come sit with me, you could probably explain the game, yeah?” He patted his knee and Gracie did not have to be invited twice. She slammed through the door and nearly tripped over her own feet in her haste to get to him. Dean hid his own smile behind his beer and thought to himself that Cas wasn’t a bad guy to be replaced with. Not bad at all.

 

 

 

Later, Dean sat on the porch swing with Jess, crickets and cicadas were buzzing in the fading afternoon light, and laughter filled the air around him. A tangle of warm and fuzzy filled up his chest as he watched Sam and Cas playing touch football with Gracie in the front yard. Meg and Charlie were standing farther off taking turned feeding strands of dandelions to Della. Michael was slept on Dean’s chest, wetting Dean’s shirt with drool and toddler sweat. He didn’t mind. He rubbed the little boy’s back and rocked the swing gently back and forth to help him stay asleep.

 

“I swear he loves you more than me some days. Gracie too.” Jess sighed. She leaned against his shoulder and rubbed her huge stomach absently. “This one will probably be the same.”

 

“Only cause I give them chocolate.” Dean joked.

 

“Oh, hush, you know that’s not it.” She sighed again and shook her head. “They see all the good and gushy you try to hide from everyone else. And they live for it. We all do.” Dean shrugged the words off, but Jess wasn’t one to give up easily. She laid a hand to his arm and squeezed. “I mean it, D. Today--it was so good to just see you smiling and--happy. You were your best self. It was good to see that guy again. I hope he sticks around.” She got to her feet and leaned over to kiss him on the top of the head, a gesture she had picked up over the years of being his ‘little sister’ because it was his go to way of showing affection. Dean blinked away the moisture in his eyes as she plucked Michael up into her own arms. “Love you, big brother.”

 

Sam came over to say goodbye after Jess told him it was time to head home. Dean got to his feet and hugged him in that macho way men have that seemed violent to the outside eye but really meant ‘major under the radar chick flick moment’. “Thanks, for hanging out Sammy.”

 

“Of course, Dean. Fishing next week I mean it! Don’t let me back out.” Sam grinned and waved goodbye to the others before heading to help Jess load up the kids. Cas joined Dean on the porch, taking the space Jess had vacated.

 

They sat in the quiet and watched lightning bugs flicker to light as they darted around the grass. Laughter filtered over from where Meg and Charlie were talking across the lawn and it was so damn peaceful that Dean didn’t want it to end. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes with a sigh.

 

“I like the stars.” Cas murmured so quietly Dean almost didn’t hear him. He turned his head just enough to see that Cas had slouched down much the same as he had, his head tilted back, eyes mostly closed, with a soft smile teasing the edges of his mouth. Dean licked his own lips. His heart sped up the tiniest bit as he studied Cas’s face in the semi-dark and made note of how the ghost light of the moon and stars flickered across his relaxed features. I like the stars…

 

“Stars and galaxies are transient. Fleeting things that twinkle and vanish into dust. But from here…” Cas turned his head and met Dean’s steady gaze, the soft smile opening up on his face in a way that made Dean’s chest tighten and his breath to bottle up in his lungs.

 

“From here I can pretend.” Cas’s voice had gone an impossible octave lower, if he noticed its effect on Dean he didn’t give anything away. “Neil Gaimen.”

 

“Yeah.” Dean whispered. He couldn’t be sure it wasn’t jus an accident, but Cas’s hand had fallen next to his on the swing’s bench. Their last and ring fingers brushed in the dark and Dean felt a frisson of electricity flicker through him, raising the hair on his arm. He could still feel Cas’s gaze on him even after he had looked away. “Cas?” The noise he made in reply didn’t really classify as a word and Dean fought back the stupid smile creeping to the surface. “What are you doing?”

 

“Enjoying the view.” Dean laughed softly and turned to find a matching grin on Cas’s face. “God that was cheesy right?”

 

“Only a lot.”

 

“Your--uh your freckles. I was thinking they’re kind of the same thing. Transient…flickering. When I focus on one it splits into four and they make constellations all across your face. I--ahem--it’s really, uh--” He trailed off, gaze wandering across Dean’s face, to his eyes, to his lips. Was it Dean’s imagination or were they closer now than they had been before. He was sure that if he licked his lips he would taste Cas’s own. And--he wanted to know just what his taste was. They were so close now that when Cas closed his eyes, Dean felt the tickle of his eye lashes against his cheek. “Dean…” The murmur of his name brought the briefest and softest brush of Cas’s mouth against his own and Dean shuttered, his fingers flexed and Cas caught them in his own. He pressed forward--

 

“Drinking games!”

 

Dean pulled away so quickly that a muscle in his back pulled taught with a spasm of pain. Meg and Charlie stampeded up the front steps, oblivious to the fact that they had just interrupted the most sensual moment Dean had experience in recent memory, possibly ever. Dean rubbed the small of his back and glanced at Cas. He seemed to be attempting to catch his breath, but he kept his eyes on the two women.

 

“Dr--” Cas stopped to clear his throat, glanced over at Dean and smirked just a little. “Drinking games?”

 

“Yes! I noticed Deano here has an impressive stash of liquor and we decided that the children are away and it’s time for the adults to play.” Meg rubbed her hands together with glee. Dean’s irritation was ignored by one and all. He was dragged into the house and coerced by the other three to tell them where he kept his shot glasses.

 

Once they were settled in, Charlie passed the bottle of Jack Daniels (Dean’s arch nemesis) and looked expectantly at someone to start.

 

“Um, what game are we playing?”

 

“Don’t look at me.” Dean said. “The only drinking game I’ve ever played was twenty years ago with a girl named Sally and a bottle of tequila.” He shuddered at the memory and took his first shot. “Not a fun time let me tell you.”

 

“I played flip cup a lot in college.” Cas offered to which Meg replied with a seethed ‘frat boy’ and Cas shrugged.

 

“Never have I ever?” Charlie offered to which Cas groaned.

 

“Two forty year olds, a lesbian, and a bitch from hell…what haven’t we done?” Dean asked. Meg flipped him off. He wagged his eyebrows and showed her the same finger.

 

“Oh, Dean, that’s good!” Cas grinned at him and refilled his shot glass. “We play drink if you…kind of like cross the line, but with alcohol.”

 

“Isn’t that the same thing though?”

 

“Doesn’t matter. Let’s just do it.”

 

It started off easy with prompts like drink if you have green eyes (Dean rolled his eyes and took a shot) drink if you’ve kissed a girl (everyone took a shot) drink if you have a sibling (Cas and Dean took a shot). Drink if you have a tattoo (Dean and Meg took a shot). Simple things to give everyone a good buzz. Then Meg introduced the rule that you had to kiss and tell, so to speak, or explain your answer. If you plead the fifth you had to take two shots.

 

“Drink if you have a condom right now.” Charlie demanded with beady eyes flitting around their little circle.

 

“No fair.” Cas said, though he’d already taken his shot. “What man doesn’t have a condom on them all the time?”

 

“Dean didn’t take a shot.” Meg simpered at him with glittering eyes.

 

“Neither did you, but I know you’ve got one.” Cas teased back. Meg scowled but took her shot. They looked at the other two.

 

“I date a chick. We can’t exactly get each other pregnant.” Charlie laughed and looked at Dean.

 

“Uh--haven’t been horny in a while?” He offered and Charlie wagged her finger at him.

 

“Liar. You were watching tentacle porn last week.”

 

“Tentacle porn?” Cas did what Dean could only describe as the ‘dom brow’ where he lifted one eyebrow and looked down his nose in a demanding kind of way. Dean’s stomach flipped. “What is tentacle porn?”

 

“Asian cartoons being penetrated by monsters with hundreds of octopus arms.” Charlie informed him.

 

“Not a good enough reason to use the word penetrate.” Meg lifted her shot glass. “Drink if you aren’t wearing underwear.”

 

Cas took another shot and Charlie pointed out that if Meg didn’t stop deliberately saying things that she knew Cas had to drink to, she was going to kill him of alcohol poisoning.

 

“Drink if you’ve ever masturbated in someone else’s house.” Shots all around. “In someone else’s bed.” Again, they all reached for their glass. “Damn…we are shitty people.”

 

“Drink if you’ve ever killed a man.” Meg said it jokingly, but he noted that she didn’t seem at all surprised when he took his shot. “Military”

 

“Could just be a big bad.” He drawled, Meg shook her head with a half smile.

 

“Nah, you got that look about you.”

 

“Yeah? What look is that?” He rubbed his knee without meaning to, a nervous tick he’d developed whenever he talked about is former profession.

 

“The ‘I’ve been to war and seen some shit’ look. My dad had the some one. He was a real son of a bitch.” Dean raised another shot in a sort of toast.

 

“Here’s to dick dads and the kids who made it through.” It was his way of changing the subject, but a sort of grudging respect formed between them then, a bond based on the shared experience of a mean drunk for a father. “That got depressing real fast.”

 

“Drink if you’ve farted in public and blamed someone else.” Cas blurted to break the weird tension. Dean took his shot and then told them all the story of the time he’d driven Sammy on his first date when he was thirteen and let fly a silent one. “Jesus, Sammy, I know you’ve got a nervous stomach but at least crack a window.” Dean chuckled, remembering the look on Sam’s face that night. “He was mad at me for weeks.”

 

The game continued until the four of them were five sheets in. No one could keep a straight face, and the questions were running out.

 

“Drink if you’ve ever cheated on someone.”

 

“Drink if…if…if you’ve ever licked somebody’s but-

 

“I--hic--I’m done.” Dean groaned, cutting off whatever was about to be asked. He rolled over on the couch and snuggled his face into the cushions. He was snoring a moment after.

 

*****

 

“Ow.” Cas muffled voice came from the floor under his feet and nearly sent Dean for the door.

 

“Shit, you scared me.”

 

“You stepped on me first.” Cas grunted in reply and rolled onto his stomach, shoving his head under a pillow. Dean staggered to the bathroom in search of his toothbrush, desperate to get the ass taste out of his mouth. He kicked open his bedroom, but only made it two steps in before another shriek had him pulling up short.

 

Meg was naked in his bed and he had the brief fear that he’d at some point been there too, but Charlie’s messy bed head popped up from under the covers and Dean slapped a hand cartoonishly over his face to hide his eyes.

 

“Get out!” Meg yelled throwing a badly aimed pillow that missed him and knocked a picture off the wall near the door..

 

“You’re in my room!” He snapped, not liking being made out to be a pervert peeping Tom. The protective big brother in him wanted to scold Charlie for having sex with the evil witch, but she was grown, she had to make her own mistakes. He slammed the door behind him and followed the smell of coffee. Cas was sitting at the table with his head down, Dean filled a mug before falling into the chair closest to him and nudging the other man with his foot. “I think they got us drunk so they could fool around.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“You knew?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Why didn’t--” Cas’s finger shot out from under him and mashed Dean’s lips closed.

 

“No more talky.”

 

“Yes, sir.” Dean mocked. Cas turned his head enough to peak at Dean with one eye.

 

“Sir isn’t necessary. Too formal.” Dean arched an imploring brow. “Daddy works just fine.”

 

Coffee spewed out of Dean’s mouth and the sound of his choking was drowned out by Cas’s laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out to be so long...hope you don't mind ;)


	10. Its not about Winning, its about Fun

“What’s up bitch!” Charlie breezed into Dean’s office one Tuesday carrying an arm full of brightly colored fliers. He looked up from his paperback and arched an eyebrow at her.

 

“What’s with the propaganda?” He asked as she dropped the neon stack onto his desk and swiped the paper sack that contained the lunch he’d promised to bring her. She groaned with delight when her perusal lead to the discovery of Dean’s famous lasagna. She’d dubbed it that a few weeks prior the first time he’d made it for a faculty luncheon and everyone had been so impressed they’d all fought over seconds. Dean had turned tomato red and denied at least four of them his secret recipe insisting he really couldn’t share his mother’s knowledge.

 

“Oh, the squad finally settled on themes for HoCo. I was hoping to wrangle your help with distribution.” She was talking around a mouthful and Dean agreed in like fashion, working on his own plate of lunch.

 

“Yeah, I could hang them around.” As well as head of IT, Charlie was also the sponsor of the Cheerleading team, a fact Dean had laughed at for all of forty seconds before she’d slapped on the back of the head. He had been pulled in to helping her at least four other occasions over the course of the football season and had gotten the hang of being her sidekick.

 

“Cool. Also--I’ve claimed you as my twinning mate.”

 

“You’re--I’m sorry what?” Dean had thought he’d figured out all of Charlie’s quirks over the last three months, but clearly that was not the case because here they were once again--at least fifty pages away from each other.

 

“Twinning. It’s a thing Dr. C came up with to foster faculty participation during pride week. You pick a partner and all of your costumes go together. Winning team gets a month off lunch duty. Do you know how awesome that is?”

 

“I’m just the janitor.” Dean mumbled around his cookie. “I mean…I have lunch duty either way.”

 

“Yeah, well--then you can just be happy for me when we win and I don’t.” He tried to argue his way out of it over the remainder of their lunch together but she was very insistent and in the end he was left with the stack of fliers he had agreed to hang for her and a promise that they could discuss costumes later. Dean sighed as he grabbed a roll of tape and headed out of his office.

 

“Hey, Mister D!” Someone called to him.

 

“Mister D! I aced that math test..thanks again for helping me with the calculator.”

 

“Brah! Was that Miss Bradbury coming out of your office? She is so hot.”

 

Somehow Dean had become popular with the students. He hadn’t quite figured out how yet. He didn’t talk all that much and according to Crowley (a history teacher that Dean had formed a tenuous friendship with thanks to an incident with an exploding container of microwaved soup) his face was perpetually sour. Charlie argued that it was because he was hot and had the strong silent type thing going for him. Not to mention she had overheard a few lady teachers discussing how when he did speak his voice was like an ooey-gooey hot chocolate orgasm. Crowley conceded after giving Dean a once over that frankly made him uncomfortable.

 

Dean smiled at each of his greeters, gave the math test kid a high five and got to work with the tape. He read over the themes as he worked.

 

_Show off your fighting bulldog pride and join us in celebrating HOCO week!_

_Monday : Nerd vs. Jock (the battle of Urkel and Troy is on)_

_Tuesday : Gen vs. Gen (imitate your favorite person old or young)_

_Wednesday : Good vs. Evil (dress up as your favorite villain or superhero)_

_Thursday : Disney vs. The World (come on…what other characters are there besides your favorites from disney)_

_Friday : Bulldogs vs. Wildcats (Blue and White pride day…go all out and show our boys you’ve got their back)_

__

Dean could only imagine what Charlie had in mind to come out as the winner at the end of the week and he groaned outwardly, shaking his head and wondering why he had given up so easily and let her rope him in.

 

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel leaned up against the wall close to where he was working and Dean greeted him with a smile.

 

“Cas. How’s your day?”

 

“Awful actually. The chairman of the board has been here all morning and he is the most exhausting human being.” Cas loosened his tie and looked defeated for all of two seconds until he noticed what Dean was taping to the wall. “They picked? Yeeeessss!”

 

“Dude…you are way to excited about this.” Dean patted his shoulder in a consoling manner and Cas pursed his lips in an odd frown/smile combination. He glanced around furtively before flashing Dean his middle finger and shoving him.

 

“Asshole.” He took a bright pink flier with him as he strolled away whistling the Gilligan’s Island theme song. Dean shook his head and went back to papering the hallways of Nor Prep with HoCo propaganda.

 

 

 

**MONDAY**

****

“I hate you.” Dean muttered to Charlie as they stood in line behind a stream of other faculty members to get their picture taken for the ‘Board of Champions’ Castiel had set up in the front office where students could stop by and vote for their favorite twinning mates between classes. Crowley was in line ahead of them with Meg. The pair turned toward them with matching face paint and wicked grins.

 

“You should. You just get to look stupid for nothing. We’ve been champions for two years running.” Meg said with a smirk.

 

“King and Queen of hell.” Crowley agreed. The two were dressed up as Venus and Serena Williams, Tennis skirts and racerback tank tops included. Dean would have preferred a skirt to the outfit Charlie had forced him into.

 

 

“I’ve never even seen Mean Girls.” He muttered, nearly choking as Charlie tightened the strings on the blue hoodie she had given him to wear. It was pulled up over his head and tied so tightly it was cutting off circulation to his ears. He also sported a pair of dark sunglasses and had a sign tied around his neck that said ‘She doesn’t even go here.’. Charlie told him his name was Damien.

 

“Which is the lamest thing I’ve ever heard. I can’t believe you’ve never seen Mean Girls. It’s a classic.” Charlie insisted and then glared at him. “Get it together, Winchester. I need to win this thing.”

 

“It’s just lunch duty.” He growled. Charlie’s costume was one of Dean’s green canvas jackets, some seriously ripped up jeans and badly parted hair that she slicked down in certain spots and embellished with gaudy clips. Her name was apparently Janice. He had argued that they didn’t exactly look like jocks or nerds to him, but Charlie snapped that it was because he had refused to watch the movie and he needed to keep his uninformed opinions to himself. “You’re mean when you want to win things.”

 

“I can’t help it.” She hissed back.

 

“It only get’s worse as the week goes on.” The teacher behind them leaned forward into their conversation space and glared at Charlie. “I was her partner last year and when I tripped down the bleachers over her stupid Lady Liberty train she refused to help me because she said I was deliberately sabotaging her chance to win.”

 

Dean stifled a laugh and turned his gaze back to Charlie who only shrugged and dragged him forward in front of the camera. Castiel greeted them with a grin. “Nice. Charlie, this is your doing I assume?”

 

Charlie beamed proudly and struck a pose for the camera. She elbowed Dean when he didn’t do the same so he hunched his shoulders and lifted his sign higher into view. Cas snapped their photo and tacked it to the board nearby. He was wearing really bad fitting jeans shoved unevenly into a pair of cowboy boots, his white t-shirt was tucked into the waist band encouraging everyone to ‘Vote for Pedro’. To complete the look he also had donned a bad afro wig and oversized eye glasses.

 

“Can I borrow some chapstick?” Dean asked as he and Charlie were headed out and they got close enough for Castiel to hear him. Cas actually reached in to his pocket and pulled a tube out to toss to him as he called for the next team. Dean caught it easily with a laugh.

 

**TUESDAY**

****

Dean didn’t mind his costume so much on day two mainly because Charlie had actually listened to his suggestion that they dress up as Carl and Ellie from Up. She had argued briefly that it wasn’t Disney day yet but conceded when Dean said they were the most iconic old people of all time thanks to that two minute time lapse.

 

“Oh my god.” Charlie whispered, covering her cheeky smile with her hand. “This is too good.”

 

Dean looked around confused. “What are you talking about.”

 

“Dr. C, looking good.” She was smirking and elbowing Dean in the side. Cas turned to them and his eyes lit up. “You two have to go on the board together.”

 

“But he’s not my--”

 

“It’s too good, D. Golden opportunity.” She and Dean took their picture first but then Charlie snagged the camera and shoved Cas in his direction.

 

Cas looked to Dean for approval and he just shrugged. He couldn’t see why Charlie was freaking out over the situation. It wasn’t that serious, but he could admit that it was a pretty cool coincidence. Cas had chosen to represent a younger generation and in doing so he had dressed up as Russel from Up. He wore the high socks under khaki shorts that stopped at mid thigh, the bright yellow polo and orange neckerchief with the badge covered sash across his chest. And he had balloons. They were tied to his belt loops and floated up above his head.

 

Dean stepped up close to him and realized he didn’t know what to do for the pose. But Cas seemed to have ideas of his own. He pointed to the camera and gave Dean his goofiest smile. Dean just kept looking confused which Charlie declared as ‘perfection’ and they moved on.

 

“Dean, wait!” Cas jogged to where they had made it down the hall and held a green balloon out to him. “Goes with your costume.” He said with a shrug as he tied it around Dean’s wrist. Charlie stood back and smirked at him.

 

“Will you stop doing that!”

 

“Doing what?”

 

“Smirking at me every time Cas gets around me.”

 

“He likes you.”

 

“We’re friends.” Dean insisted, rolling his eyes at her. He didn’t want to talk about Cas liking him. Not after the almost kiss on his front porch that had not been followed up on. There had been plenty of opportunity for at least a discussion on the matter--they had coffee together every morning and they had seen each other outside of work several time, at the community center as well as the memorable event Dean had invited both him and Charlie to the house for a lesson in horseback riding that had ended with Cas on his ass in a pile of manure and Charlie laughing so hard she nearly peed herself. Dean could admit that he was just as capable on following up as Cas was, but at the same time he was not. He had spent his whole life entirely attracted to the opposite sex, not so much as a second glance spent on another man before Cas. It wasn’t that being attracted to men was a bad thing--he just was not confident enough in the very new realization that maybe he _was_  gay, or bi, or whatever, to make move. Also was the fact that--“He has a girlfriend.”

 

“He--Dean, Cas is gay!” Charlie looked really disappointed in his stupidity as she stalked after him down the hall. “Where do you get your information?

 

“He is not. I’ve heard him talk about her. Like the time he complained about her not helping with the dishes. Or the time he had to run out because he was late for a soccer date with her.”

 

“You’re delusional, my friend.” Charlie slung her arm around his shoulders and ruffled his hair. “Completely delusional.”

 

**WEDNESDAY**

****

“What are you wankers playing at?” Crowley growled from behind his batman mask, looking Charlie and Dean up and down when he ran in to them in the hallway. “You’re not even dressed up.”

 

“Yes we are! He came as my hero, I came as his.” Charlie crossed her arms and leaned into Dean who rolled his eyes affectionately.

 

“You just look like yourselves.”

 

“Exactly.” Dean said as they walked away.

 

“This doesn’t count for a point!” Crowley yelled after them.

 

Cas came dressed as the Lord. Or so he said. He was just wearing a striped bathrobe and carrying a plunger around like a scepter. He told Dean over their a cup of coffee that morning, “I think God is just kind of walking around as a regular guy asking people to call him Chuck, getting a feel for things.”

 

“You’re insane.” Dean replied. Cas shrugged.

 

“You just came as yourself. Isn’t that kind of conceded?”

 

“No, because I didn’t come as myself. I came as Charlie’s hero.”

 

“You two are like an old married couple.” Cas sipped from his tea and shook his head. “It’s adorable.”

 

**THURSDAY**

****

“Can you believe our good luck that Star Wars is part of the Disney verse now?” Charlie’s voice was muffled due to the mask she was wearing. On a day when one could be anything--of course Charlie chose to be Chewbacca.

 

“I don’t believe in luck.” Dean said holding his fake ray gun up and blowing the tip of it as if smoke were coming out of it. Charlie laughed at him and they high fived each other before going their separate ways.

 

“Headed to the garbage chute, Fly boy?” Came a familiar voice behind him. Dean smiled to himself, but allowed it to slip away before he turned round. He mouth dropped open in shock. Cas…was Leia. He had the buns, the white floor length robe, and even a miniature R2-D2 on wheels that he was pulling along behind him. Dean finally closed his mouth.

 

“Is this Charlie’s doing?” He sounded demanding, but he didn’t care. He felt like he had been set up.

 

“Um--no?” Cas tilted his head, eyes narrowed in confusion. “I don’t understand. Are you--mad that we match?”

 

Dean didn’t like being looked at like he was crazy. To negate that he told himself he needed to not act crazy. He struggled to find a way out of the awkward situation and finally just took a page out of Cas’s book and finger gunned him. “Just joking, princess.” Then he walked away.

 

**FRIDAY**

****

“Thank Chuck this is almost over.” Dean said with a heavy sigh. Today they were covered in blue and white paint, wearing extremely long capes that had the words to the school’s fight song written out on them and were sporting actual football jersey’s Charlie had stolen from the locker room. He was whining to no on one in particular. Charlie was there of course eating her lunch, but she had since told him she was sick of his complaining and stuck her earbuds in. Which is why he jumped when she chimed in.

 

“Who’s Chuck?”

 

“Nothing. Something Cas said the other day.” Charlie smirked and he threw a french fry at her. “You shut your mouth.”

 

“I didn’t even say anything.”

 

“Yeah, well, you thought it.” The intercom crackled to life and Charlie perked up listening intently as Cas’s voice congratulated students and faculty alike on an excellent spirit filled Homecoming Week. Then he began to read off the names of the winners. Charlie was all but vibrating in her seat as he read off third and second runners up.

 

“First runner up is…Mr. Crowley and Nurse Meg.” Cas paused and cleared his throat, “Drum roll please, Hannah. Thank you. The winning team of this years faculty Twinning Tournament is….Ms. Bradbury and Mr. Winchester. Congratulations! Hope to see everyone out tonight to watch our Bulldogs whoop some Wildcats.”

 

Charlie was screaming and dancing around in a circle. Dean laughed at her uproariously right up until she insisted he join her. He should have learned by now though that there was no resisting Charlie Bradbury. So when Crowley came across the intercom demanding a recount Dean stood up and danced with her. “To the new king and queen of hell.”

 

“Hear, Hear!” Charlie laughed and threw her arms around him in a hug. “Best twinners ever.”

 

 

***** 

 

 

Dean was on the second floor of the school waiting for the elevator doors to open so that he could take down the can full of homecoming door decorations he’d gathered up the Monday after the big game, Nor Prep had won by a single field goal in nail biting overtime, when his phone went off for the third time in two minutes. He usually kept it out of site unless he was in his office or outside because it was against the rules for students to have theirs out during class periods. On the fourth round of vibrations he took it out and answered.

 

“Hey, Sammy.”

 

“Dean! Finally, I’ve been calling like fucking crazy.”

 

“Yeah, man, I’m at work, what’s up?”

 

“It’s time! Jess went in to labor, we’re on our way to the hospital.”

 

“Are you serious? Isn’t it too early?”

 

“Just a few weeks. It should be fine. You’re coming right? You can get out of work?” The elevator doors opened and Dean hurried on, punching the first floor button four or five times.

 

“I’m leaving now. Tell her to hold it in.” He joked and Sam laughed in that manically happy way of a man about to be a father for a third time.

 

“She is glaring so hard right now.” Sam’s next laugh cut off the string of swear words Jessica was muttering and Dean grinned.

 

“Aw, I love her too. See you guys soon!” The doors were almost closed when someone stuck their arm inside and they popped back open to reveal a red faced and out of breath Castiel.

 

“H-hey.” He stammered, he appeared to be struggling with himself for a moment, but he finally stepped over the threshold and took a long breath as the doors clicked shut.

 

“Hey, I’m going to need to take off early. My sister in law just went in to labor.” Dean had only smiled so big two other times in his life and they had been on days very similar to this one, when his current niece and nephew had been born. He couldn’t wait to see what this next one was going to be.

 

“That’s g-great, Dean!” Cas forced a smile and turned toward him, still looking a little off. Dean’s brow furrowed as he took in his clenched fists, the sweat beaded along his brow, and his very stiff posture.

 

“You ok, Cas?”

 

“I-uh--” Cas swallowed back the rest of the words and just nodded. “I don’t like--” The elevator jerked to a halt and the red emergency lights in the corner of the ceiling flickered on. Cas’s color drained and he squeaked out an off key “Crap.” before staggering back and leaning against the wall. “I knew it. I knew this was going to happen.”

 

“Cas, just calm down, ok.” Dean, who was a little freaked out himself by the confined space and the knowledge that they may be stuck, didn’t think he had it in him to help Cas through a freak out. He found the intercom button on the panel and held it down until a buzz sounded and a voice came through.

 

“Fire department, if this is not an emergency, please don’t push the big red button.”

 

“Um, yes, this is an emergency.” Dean started but Cas lurched forward and nearly knocked him over in his haste to talk into the speaker.

 

“We’re going to die!”


	11. Oh, the Chemistry between us Could Destroy this place

“Dammit, Cas.” Dean hissed, grabbing the other man’s arm and pulling him away from the speaker. He gave him a little shove and pointed to the opposite corner. “Just go stand over there and--and breathe through your nose.”

 

“Sir?” The voice on the other end was impatient, probably thinking a couple of kids were pulling a prank.

 

“Um, sorry about that. No one is dying. We are over at Northridge Prep and the elevator has stopped. I’m assuming since I’m speaking to you it isn’t a power issue.”

 

“Ok, no problem. Can you get in touch with your maintenance man or the headmaster?”

 

“Just so happens we’re both stuck in this thing.” Dean glanced over his shoulder to check on Cas and noted that the man was pacing the small space between the doors and the back wall, muttering to himself and decidedly __not__  breathing through his nose.

 

“Gotcha. We can send a crew right over and get you two out of there.” The voice was friendlier now, even sounded a bit amused. “Tell Castiel to take it easy until we get there ok?”

 

“Er--has this happened before?” Dean looked over at Cas again. He was still pacing and Dean thought if he chewed anymore on his lower lip he was going to do some serious damage.

 

“Yes.” He was definitely laughing and Dean scowled. Cas was obviously terrified, it wasn’t something to laugh about. Dean couldn’t figure out why he’d even gotten on the damn elevator if he was this badly frightened. “He’s not so good with elevators.”

 

“I can see that.” With a promise that help was on the way, Dean turned to face Cas. “Hey, man, you gotta take it easy.”

 

“Take it easy? Take it easy?! We’re going to die in here. Do you realize how small this thing is, Dean? Do you? We’re going to run out of oxygen.” Cas’s voice was so far above his normal range, or anyone’s normal range for that matter, that it actually caused Dean physical pain.

 

“We won’t be in here that long, Cas. The fire department is on the way.”

 

“That doesn’t matter! Asphyxiation only takes a few minutes, Dean! I couldn’t tell you exactly how long since I’ve never experience it, but I know that it isn’t long! We’re going to run out of air and we’re going to die. And the last--the last person I slept with was fucking weird, man. And the whole house smelled like cabbage.” His voice cracked and Dean had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. He couldn’t help it. Cas was going off the rails. He rammed both of his hands harshly through his hair, making it stick up all on end. It was endearing and adorable and Dean-- “Cabbage, Dean! And fucking cats! I’m going to die and the last person I screwed smelled like fucking cats. I don’t even like cats!”

 

Dean couldn’t let him continue like this. If he kept talking so much and so loud and so __high__ he was going to hurt himself. He scrambled for some way to calm him down, barring words because it was evident he wasn’t going to listen to those. He was thinking so hard that he failed to notice Cas had gone silent and was leaned over on his knees gasping for breath.

 

“Shit, Cas.” Dean crossed the small gap between them and grabbed the other man’s shoulders, pulling him upright so that he was looking Dean in the face. “You need to breathe, ok.”

 

“I-I-I c-can’t. I can’t b-breathe.” Dean didn’t know what to do. What was he supposed to do. He used to be good in a crisis, but now-- “D-Dean. I can’t--I can’t--”

 

Dean kissed him. It was a abrupt and his mouth landed crookedly, more on his chin than anything, but it was a kiss. And--the distraction worked. He could feel Cas inhale sharply through his nose, hands falling lax at his sides and shoulders slumping enough that Dean guessed the coil of anxiety and fear that had wound up in his chest was turning loose. Dean moved his body in more closely, but pulled out of the kiss, leaving his forehead pressed to Cas’s.

 

“Did you--” Cas cleared his throat and blinked slowly. “Was that just to distract me?”

 

“Yes.” Dean’s voice shook a little and he closed his eyes, feeling like maybe he was the one about to tailspin into a panic. Cas didn’t say anything else, just breathed slowly and steadily. Dean told himself it was okay now, Cas was fine, he could step away. Instead, he found himself suddenly closer. One hand moved to cup the side of Cas’s neck and he used the leverage to tug the blue eyed man forward and then to anchor their mouths together.

 

Dean had never been a fan of sappy movies. He declared himself a heretic of any and all rom-com-chick-flick moment. But right then, as he began to memorize the slightly rough slide of Cas’s lips on his, he thought to himself that this--this felt like coming home. It felt like the memory of the first bite of his mother’s apple pie. It felt like the moment the sun broke over the horizon and flooded the cold dawn with light. It felt like everything good he’d ever wanted was his. It felt like a goddamn Jane Austen novel.

 

“What was that one for then? Cas breathed when they parted at last. Dean’s hand was still on his neck and he could feel the rapid thrum of his heart just under the skin. A smile curved his lips upward at the idea that he’d made Cas’s heart race.

 

“Because I liked the way the first one tasted.” Dean watched in fascination as Cas’s eyes darkened from their usual cerulean blue to something--stormy, heated--then Cas growled--fucking __growled__ \--and Dean’s legs went weak. This kiss was nothing like the previous two. It was feral, hungry. Cas’s mouth slanted over his and without any ceremony or teasing he forced Dean’s mouth open with his own and he took. He took and he took, licking into Dean’s mouth and dragging out a low moan. Hands fisted in flannel and he pushed hard, Dean collided with the wall of the elevator so hard the back of his head glanced off just painfully enough to make him grunt. Still Cas took. Lips, tongue, and teeth met without finesse and Dean was so gone he could barely remember his own name. Cas’s hands were in his hair now. It was like he couldn’t get in far enough, his fingers kept digging and digging until they were practically at the top of Dean’s head before he smoothed them down and started all over again. It was like being petted, and Dean found that he didn’t mind. His hips rolled forward of their own accord and--there was that growl again. He couldn’t breathe, he needed to breathe, but when he tried to pull away, just for half a second, just enough for one tiny breath, Cas’s teeth sank into his bottom lip and held him there.

 

“Dean.” If his voice sounded like sex on a regular basis--Dean had no idea how to describe it in that moment. “I wasn’t done.” Well, shit, how could he argue with that. He grabbed Cas’s waist, hands bunching in the material and dragging him closer if at all possible. They were touching __everywhere__ , Dean could feel all of him. It was glorious. But it wasn’t enough. It couldn’t ever be enough. He wanted more. At the same time he was thinking this, Cas was shoving a hand beneath his shirt, nails raked softly up his back and down again, palms rough on his bare skin. “Good. So good.”

 

Dean agreed. It was all so good. Too good. Too much. Not enough. He couldn’t understand how it could be both, but it was. Cas was still biting him. His lips, his jaw, his throat. His hands dropped from Dean’s back and slipped into the back pockets of his jeans, pulling him closer, closer, closer. Dean bucked forward and Cas pushed back. “Fuck.”Dean groaned, going hot all over when Cas lined up their hips and ground hard into him. Dean went from semi hard to full monty in the time it took his brain to register what was happening. And then Cas was gone. His mouth was anyway. Dean mouthed at the air where he had been and whined his protest.

 

“My brother.”

 

“What?” Dean snapped, still unsure why the kissing had stopped.

 

“Cassie? You alive in there buddy?” Dean followed Cas’s gaze to the elevator doors. He hadn’t heard them at first, but it was evident that someone was just beyond them, working at prying the seal apart.

 

“My brother is here.” Cas still had his hands in Dean’s pockets and Dean was still holding on to his shirt, which was mostly untucked by then.

 

“Gabe? Why?” Cas turned to meet his eyes then and Dean almost went to his knees because he looked--damn he looked like every wet dream Dean had ever had. His lips were wet and swollen, chin raw from Dean’s stubble, eyes heavy and far away, like his head was trapped in the same place as Dean’s was, and his hair--fuck his hair was almost the best part, messy and everywhere and Dean couldn’t imagine it would look any different if they’d been in his bed with a lot less clothing and a lot more skin.

 

“He’s--uh, he works fire and rescue.”

 

“Cassie! Can you hear me buddy?”

 

“We’re good, Gabe. Can you just get the doors open please.” Cas called back, eyes never leaving Dean’s.

 

Dean had begun to feel, astonishingly, shy. He dropped his gaze, a giddy laugh lurched up in his stomach. Cas cupped his chin and forced his head up so that he could kiss him again, just a teasing touch, barely even there. Then he stepped back and Dean released his shirt, wincing at how unkempt it was. Cas grinned at him and began shoving the ends back into the waist of his pants, trying his best to smarten up. Dean thought he mostly failed but he didn’t draw attention to it.

 

They stood side by side, facing the doors as they began to crack open, revealing that they were part way between two floors with just enough space at the top for someone to be pulled through, which Dean suspected was the plan. He could feel Cas tensing up next to him, could practically see all of the horror movie moments flashing through his head where the hero tried to climb free of a trapped elevator only have it start up when he was most of the way out and ended up decapitated, so he reached for his hand. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Cas drop his head to take in the view as their fingers linked together. He couldn’t stop the grin from making its way on to his face.

 

They doors were finally fully open and as Gabriel’s mischievous face came into view, Dean leaned over into Cas space and whispered just loud enough for only him to hear. “I’ll go first so you can check out my ass.”

 

 

 *****

 

 

“Sorry I was late, princess.” Dean murmured, snuggling his face into the soft warmth of the newest Winchester, all wrapped in pink with an oversized bow already wrapped around her tiny head. She smelled like heaven and Dean groaned at how perfect she was. “Stupid fancy school can’t even maintain an elevator.”

 

Sam grinned in his direction from the bed where he was brushing out Jessica’s hair and twisting it into a braid. “You owe her big time.” He said with an eye roll to emphasize how ridiculous he found his big brother.

 

“I know!” Dean exclaimed, kissing her wrinkly neck over and over. “Yes, I do. Yes I-”

 

“Jeez, D, just have one already.” Jessica teased. Dean waved them both off and continued to gaze adoringly at his newest niece.

 

“They’re just jealous of our profound bond, Ruthie. Ignore their negativity. You have the rest of your life to listen to their crap.”

 

“Let me have my kid back.” Jess made grabby hands and Dean reluctantly carried the baby back to her, leaving more kisses in her downy soft hair before settling her in Jess’s arms and stepping away.

 

“I’m going to grab a coffee, you guys want anything?”

 

“I’ll go with.” Sam jerked a beanie down over his messy hair, dropped a kiss on Jess’s head and followed Dean out into the hall. Dean punched his arm affectionately.

 

“You two make pretty babies, man.”

 

“Right? Man, she’s freaking perfect.” They made their way down to the cafeteria in companionable silence. Dean grabbed a ready-made sandwich from the vending machine to appease his stomach and dropped into a seat at one of the tables. “What was the deal with the elevator?”

 

Dean kept his head down in an attempt to hide the flush that crept up from his neck as he recalled the events of his morning. He shrugged, chewing his food slowly to formulate a response that didn’t involve ‘my boss shoved me into a wall and tongue fucked my mouth until I was really close to creaming my underwear’ because he didn’t think Sam was really interested in those kinds of details.

 

“No clue, thing just stopped. Had to get the fire department out. They threw us a rope ladder and pulled us out.”

 

“You were stuck with someone?”

 

“Uh, yeah, Cas. Cas was in there with me.” Dean cleared his throat a couple of times and downed some of his coffee. Don’t look guilty, he thought to himself. “Apparently he’s terrified of elevators. It was--an adventure.”

 

Sam let out a loud laugh and asked the same question Dean had been asking himself most of the day. “Why did he even take it then?”

 

“No idea, Man.” They lapsed in to silence for a while, Sam answering messages on his phone from well wishers and checking on the kids who had gone home with Jess’s parents. Dean wondered what he would think of the whole thing. In the event that Dean worked up the courage to tell him, how would he react to finding out his brother made out with a guy today? “Sammy?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“If uh--if I uh…” Dean trailed off as his mouth went dry. Sam looked up at him with a raised brow.

 

“Spit out, Dean.” He joked with a smirk.

 

“Would you--what would you think if I said-ahem-if I was um, in to…men.” It was the worst moment of Dean’s life, he was sure of it. He groaned and dropped his head to the table. You’re a grown man, Winchester, act like you’ve got a pair.

 

“Is that what you’re saying?” Sam didn’t sound put out by the question, maybe that meant it was safe for Dean to look up. He did and lifted his shoulders in a shrug at the same time.

 

“It--might be what I’m saying.” He picked at the remainder of his sandwich, shredding the crust to bits at the bottom of its plastic container. “Not, men, exactly.”

 

“Ok.” Sam replied slowly, drawing the word out. “What do you mean __exactly__  then?”

 

“Well, I mean its possible that I might possibly be interested in a uh, person of the same--ahem--gender as myself. Just one person. Not the whole group.” He couldn’t look at is brother. He was terrified. He didn’t know why exactly as Sam had never expressed any dislike or distaste for people of homosexual orientation, but still--what if it was different because Dean was his family? What if he was upset about it..then what was Dean supposed to do.

 

“Well, then I would say I don’t really care either way. If the person makes you happen it doesn’t really matter to me what kind of parts they have…you know?”

 

“Really?” Dean breathed, expelling all of his fear along with the remark. Sam’s hand appeared on his shoulder and Dean finally found the guts to meet his brother’s gaze.

 

“Really, Dean.” Sam smiled at him encouragingly and Dean grinned back.

 

“Ok. Ok, awesome.” He winced then and his grin turned into a frown. “Don’t tell Jess I told you first.”

 

Sam laughed and shook his head. “Leave it to Jessica to try to steal our moment. So--its Cas right?” Dean’s gaze flew up to his.

 

“Am I that obvious?”

 

“To me--yes.” Sam grinned and began to gather their trash indicating it was time to  head back up to Jess and baby Ruth. “Also--you don’t hang out with very many other people. It was either him or the pizza delivery guy who, no offense to him, doesn’t seem like he’d be your type.”

 

“My type? I only like one dude, Sammy. I don’t even have a dude type yet.”

 

“You know what I mean--he seems like he’d be the girl in the relationship.”

 

“Ok, 1, that’s a really judgey observation and b…what is that supposed to mean?” Dean asked, head tilted to the side in a demanding type of way. Sam laughed and held up his hands in defence.

 

“I mean I just think--that is to say wouldn’t you be the, you know, the--”

 

“You think I’d be the girl?” Dean guffawed, seriously offended that Sam would even say such. He would not be the girl. He would definitely the man. He was a soldier for God’s sake. He wore flannel!

 

“I mean maybe girl isn’t the right word. Just--I think you’d be more inclined to take a back seat is all.”

 

“Don’t you talk about my back seat, Samuel.” Dean shoved Sam who was trying not to laugh. The more he tried not to the more blustery Dean became.

 

“I wasn’t! I was just saying--”

 

“I’d be the catcher is what you were saying.”

 

“Nothing wrong with that, Dean.” Sam laughed grabbed Dean in a headlock to keep him from pushing him again. They wrestled with each other until a nurse came by and told them that they were being disruptive to the patients. Sam hummed under his breath the rest of the way back to the room. “Take me out to the ball game..”

 

“Shut up.” Dean punched him in the stomach and darted away, flipping Sam off to send home the fact that his continued laughter was not appreciated.


	12. I just wanna know Are you still Down

Dean was in a decidedly foul mood. Two days had passed since he and Cas had spent half an hour getting to know each other very, very intimately in that elevator and he hadn’t seen him since then. The man hadn’t even shown up to work and Dean’s possibly overactive imagination had convinced him it was because of the kiss. He had started a dozen text messages, each of them seeming more pathetic than the previous and finally he’d just shoved his phone in the drawer of his desk and scrubbed all four sets of the campus bathrooms so thoroughly that it would be safe to say a person could eat their lunch right in the middle of the floor if they’d wanted to.

 

It was just after lunch and he was making his a round of trash collection when Crowley called out to him and waved him inside of his classroom. Dean left his can outside the door and peeled off his sweaty gloves. He stole a few pumps of hand sanitizer from a dispenser near the door and then crossed the room to drop into one of the desks on the front row. Crowley smirked as he looked him over.

 

“No offense, but you look like bloody hell. I think you are responsible for the girl in my second period U.S. History bursting into a really pathetic puddle of tears.”

 

“She probably was just upset she had to spend an hour looking at your face.” Dean growled back, but he stared guiltily at his hands and picked at a callous that had formed on one of his fingers.

 

“Bad day?”

 

“Bad week.” It had started out so well though. Dean sighed and resolved to be in a more cheerful mood for the remainder of the day. Just because he’d scared Cas off with his terrible kissing, didn’t mean he should go around glaring at everybody else.

 

“I’ve got some pot if you want some.” Crowley remarked dryly, pulling Dean out of his ruminations. He looked up at him incredulous, unable to guess whether or not he was joking. Crowley reached into his desk and Dean thought for a brief moment that the man was actually going to pull out a blunt, but instead he offered Dean a chocolate bar.

 

“Shit, I thought you were serious.” Dean laughed, reaching for the chocolate bar. He ripped it open and bit off a large corner.

 

“Oh, I was, but it’s in my car. Were you taking me up on the offer?”

 

“Um…not right now? Maybe later.” He replied bemusedly, shaking his head and lifting his chocolate up in a sort of toast. Crowley copied the motion and lifted his own. Dean left the room in a slightly better mood and for the rest of the day he was confident in the fact that at least he didn’t make anyone else cry.

 

 

 

 

Later, Dean sat with his eyes closed in his attic, paintbrush dangling loosely between his fingers. He had fallen asleep on his couch after work and woken up in a panic, shirt drenched with a cold sweat and sticking to his chest uncomfortably. He’d counted backwards in his head until he regained the ability to move and then he’d went to the kitchen and stuck his head under the faucet to clear the ghosts from his mind. It had been weeks since he’d been up here, but he’d found that after a particularly bad spell, it was one of the better ways for him to pull himself out of it. Through the big window, nighttime was in full swing. Stars littered the moonless sky, flickering in and out of view between patches of cloud and the creatures of the night were so loud outside that he didn’t even have to strain to hear them.

 

“Hey Jude..” He whispered to himself, opening his eyes and setting brush to canvas, shaping the image in his head the best that he could. “Don’t be afraid. You were made to go out and get her.” Tears beaded along his lash line, tugged themselves free, and tracked down his face. “The minute you let her under your skin.” He dipped his brush, let the rough _slide slide slide_ of it lull him into a trance. “Then you begin to make it better.” And so the night continued. Dean sang softly as he worked, ignoring everything except the image forming before him. His hand cramped, his legs went numb, and he could hardly even see straight by the end of it, but he never let up. Not until the sky had started to lighten and from somewhere below he could make out the blaring of his alarm, telling him it was time start his day. He laid the brush aside and allowed himself to __look.__

 

Jo Harvelle stared back at him. He had painted her the way he had seen her in the dream, fierce and alive, clad only in a black tank top and men’s briefs, rifle pressed against her shoulder, hair wild around her face. Deep hues of blue and purple swirled around her, swallowing her image in some places, lending proof in waking that she was lost to him. He turned away, every step toward the door hardened his resolve. He would leave this room and he wouldn’t think of what he was leaving behind. He would not think about the girl on the canvas. He would not think of the others, the ones he had stacked along the walls and thrown sheets over. He wouldn’t think about the people in those painting. The lives that he’d allowed to slip through his fingers. He wouldn’t…he couldn’t.

 

He texted Cas to let him know he wouldn’t be coming in to work and just in case that didn’t work out, he texted Balthazar who was the guy who was supposed to open the school in the event Dean and Cas were both absent. He didn’t want to be around anyone today. He didn’t want to have to pretend. He stood in front of his dresser and stared at the rows of bottles lining the edge. He hated those bottles. Every single one of them reminded him how weak he was, how broken. He took two antidepressants and got in to bed. He was awake for hours, staring at the ceiling until the pills kicked in. His brain slipped into blissful fuzziness and he nearly wept with gratefulness. It was excruciating remembering not to remember. He was glad for the break.

 

 

 

 

 

He slept for 18 hours. When he woke up his bladder hurt and his throat was so dry each breath felt like sand paper sliding down his wind pipe. He used his crutch to get to kitchen and leaned against the sink to use the retractable nozzle to spray water into his mouth. He gulped as much down as he could, even more spilled down his chin, soaking his chest and the front of the jeans he’d been wearing for two days. He limped back to bed, shucking his clothes before he flopped face down and fell back asleep.

 

The second time he woke he found his phone, battery drained. He plugged it in before he made himself get in to the shower and then cooked a few eggs and slices of toast, knowing that he would be sick if he didn’t eat. He finally went back for his phone. The screen booted up and quickly flooded with notifications. The most recent being from Sam sent less than an hour ago.

 

**S: I swear to god I will call 911.**

**D: Pull up your big girl panties, Sammy, I’m fine. Phone was dead.**

**S: Fucking asshole! We were worried!**

**D: Sorry!**

**S: When I see you, you’ll wish you’d died.**

**D: Love you too little bro.**

****

Dean flicked through the remainder of Sam’s messages, they started as easy going and teasing, growing more and more frantic the more time had passed, he felt guilty and sent another apology. The guy just welcomed his daughter in to the world a couple of days ago, it sucked he’d had Dean to worry about as well. He assumed the voicemail were from his as well and didn’t’ bother listening to them. Charlie had joked about breaking in to his house and stealing his vintage record collection. And then there were a few texts from Cas.

 

**C: Hope I didn’t get you sick as well :(**

**C: Shit I did huh? I’m so sorry! Xxxx**

**C: Your brother called the school today. He’s really worried, are you okay?**

**C: Dean…?**

****

Dean’s fingers hovered over the screen as he wondered how to respond. Why would Cas have gotten him sick?

 

**D: Hey, sorry about this week, had a rough couple of days.**

****

He’d chosen those words so that if Cas was regretting what happened between the two of them, the text could be read as an apology for not only missing work, but that whole elevator fiasco as well. He didn’t expect a response right away so he left his phone to continue charging and went outside. It was around one in the afternoon, the sun beat down from the cloudless sky. Despite the heat Dean pulled the lawnmower out of the garage and mowed the front lawn. He just needed to keep him mind occupied, stay busy until the feeling that he was going to fall apart subsided. He made a note to buy some type of fall flowers to fill in the space around the front porch and maybe a load of rock to line the edges to make it look more polished--or whatever. When he had finished the lawn from pasture fence to front porch he stopped and surveyed his handy work, sweat stinging his eyes. Good enough. Next he dragged out the hose and pulled Baby out into the sunshine so that he could give her a nice scrub down. When she once again shone like a new penny, he decided it was safe to take a break and went back inside, noting that it had somehow gotten to be nearly five.

 

He washed up at the kitchen sink and dug a few pieces of fish and vegetables out of the freezer to fix a small supper. He ate standing at the counter, afraid to sit down. He took another shower, washed a load of laundry, took out the trash, and downed two bottles of beer. There was nothing left to do except stand in the fading light of his living room and pray that when he lay down and closed his eyes there wouldn’t be a brown eyed blonde girl to greet him. He reached for his phone with the intention of playing one of the white noise loops Jess had downloaded to help him sleep, only to find that Cas had texted him back…several times.

 

**C: Really its no problem :)**

**C: Are you feeling better now though?**

**C: Is this your way of getting back at me for making you sick?**

****

Dean smiled to himself giddily. Three messages in the span of an hour, none of which he had gotten because he’d been busy staying busy, but still, it meant a lot that Cas had been interested enough in talking to him that he had tried to coax a reply out of him.

 

**D: Feeling ok…why do you keep saying you made me sick?**

**C: I’ve had the flu. We had a tongue duel if you remember ;) that’s a lot of shared germs.**

**D: If I remember, huh? ;)**

**C: For all I know you jump all kinds of people in that elevator, could be hard to keep track of…**

****

Dean laughed, the sound loud in the silence of his house. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d been so happily involved in a text conversation. He hated texting, always had, claimed to himself and anyone who would listen that it was a frivolity the world was better off without. Really he just couldn’t get the hang of the shorthand slang most people used. Cas texted in full sentences and it was--nice, talking with him this way was nice. Dean could smile like a total goofball at the flirty innuendo and the winky faces without fear that Cas would see and laugh at him for it or at the very least think he was a complete nerd.

 

**D: What can I say, Cal was it? I can’t be tamed.**

**C: Fuck you, Hannah Montana XD**

**D: Like that would you…**

****

For the first time since they had started, Cas’s response time slowed. Dean bit his lip nervously, afraid he had crossed some imaginary line. He set the phone face down on his stomach, closed his eyes. Only a few second had passed when it vibrated sharply and he snatched it up again.

 

**C: Not gonna lie…I could totally go for some you right now**

****

Dean’s face was hot. He tried to convince himself that he could totally handle what what was happening. It sort of seemed like the conversation was leading to a place he would be completely lost, but he could handle it. He was totally fine. He wrote four responses and immediately erased them.

 

**C: Those little dots that let me know you’re typing haven’t stopped flashing**

**C: You’re either writing something really indecent…**

**C: Or you’re at a loss and your face is doing that adorable ‘I’m trying to concentrate’ thing**

**C: Either way you’re definitely blushing.**

**D: I’m not blushing!**

**D: Adorable hmm?**

**C: Yeah**

**C: I wish I could have seen it…**

**D: Seen what?**

**C: The blushing ;)**

**D: I hate you**

**D: Hey, Cas?**

**C: Yes?**

**D: Why did you get on the elevator?**

**C: I’d have thought that was obvious…**

**C: It was the fastest way down *shifty eyes***

**C: No, honestly I was behind you in the hall. You have a nice butt. I was distracted by the butt. I wasn’t in my right mind.**

**D: Dork.**

****

Suddenly, they had been talking for hours. Dean only realized how much time had passed when his eyes fluttered closed and the phone slipped out of his fingers, bonking him on the bridge of his nose. “Ow.” He grumbled, rubbing his fingertips over the sore spot.

 

**D: I’m falling asleep**

**C: Goodnight, Dean xx**

**D: Night, Cas x**

****

A smile tugged at the edge of Dean’s lips as he rolled over onto his stomach and snuggled into his pillow. He was almost asleep when his phone went off one last time.

 

**C: In case you dream about me…you should know I like it rough**

****

****

*********** **

****

****

 

“So, Dean, how are we today?”

 

Dean didn’t really like his shrink. The main reason being that she was one of those people who asked how ‘we’ were doing. What’s going on with ‘us’ today. Dean found it unsettling. He spoke with his shrink once every other week, more out of respect for Sam’s desire that he do so than out of the notion that their sessions actually helped him at all. The VA had assigned Anna as Dean’s doctor upon his discharge from the hospital and he had been too lazy to put any effort in to finding someone who fit better. He was grateful that the woman had agreed to take his call on a Saturday since his __episode__  had caused him to miss their scheduled appointment on Thursday.

 

She had insisted on a video chat, which meant that Dean had actually had to put some effort in to his appearance. He might feel like shit, but he couldn’t look like shit, not when he had to talk about his _feelings _.__  Anna was dressed in a bright yellow turtle neck and pressed grey slacks. That was another reason Dean felt weird about her--who wore turtle necks anymore?

 

“I had a bit of a rough week.” Dean admitted to the laptop, feeling like a moron. He quickly explained about the bad dream, the painting, the sleeping for two days…Anna nodded along and then stared at him pensively for a long moment.

 

“Have these episodes picked up again in frequency, Dean?”

 

“Um, not really. I mean just the usual amount.” He picked at his nails, not making eye contact. Anna sighed.

 

“Dean, it is very important that you tell me the full truth here.”

 

“I am.” He muttered, and then more loudly said, “Things have been mostly good. This was the worst it’s been. Scout’s honor.”

 

“And are we sticking to our medicine regime? It’s very important that we--”

 

“Yes. I take all the ‘fix me’ pills at all the right times. Never miss a dose.”

 

“You sound a little angry, Dean.”

 

“Do I?” He glared at the keyboard, refusing to make eye contact with the camera. Call him petty, he didn’t care.

 

“Listen--I know this is frustrating. But we can get this under control, we just need to figure out a new plan.” She looked down at her chart and tapped her pen against the clip board. “I have an idea that I’d like for you to try. You definitely qualify, you have the space for it--it would probably be good for both of you.”

 

“Both of us? Can you just make a fraction more sense please?” Dean rubbed at his temples where a headache was forming. Anna laughed and touched her head like ‘oh haha silly me’. Dean rolled his eyes.

 

“Sorry, Dean. I’ve been working with a few other veterans who find themselves in similar situations to yours after they return home and the program has had very positive results thus far.”

 

“So what’s the program? It will help me with the uh--ep-episodes?” He hated the phrase and used it bitterly.

 

“I believe so. It’s a k-9 program. We take retired military or police dogs and--”

 

“Oh, no. I hate dogs.” Dean interrupted, already shaking his head.

 

“Hate is a strong word, Dean.” She smiled and tilted her head in a placating sort of way. “These animals are just as lost as you are. We have brought them home and retrained them to react to indicators of stress and anxiety. I believe this could be the best course of action. At least give it a try.”

 

Dean sat silently, ruminating over the points she made and trying to remember the last time he had even had a pleasant interaction with a dog. He couldn’t think of a single time when he had walked away from such an occasion warm and fuzzy. “Fine.”

 

“Excellent. If you’ll take down this address we can meet on Monday and I’ll introduce you to a few different candidates.”

 

“Awesome.” Dean didn’t mean it in the slightest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh! You beautiful people are giving me life by reading this ridiculous thing :)
> 
> Also...can anyone recommend some fluffiness for me to enjoy? I have been on this binge read of pining and misunderstandings between these two beautiful boys and now I just want cute first dates and angstless gay love for my babies!


	13. It's like everything You say is a sweet Revelation

“You’re acting like this is a first date, man.” Sam grinned at Dean from the passenger seat of the pickup and Dean glared back.

 

“You know how I feel about dogs.” Dean rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans and stared at the glass front doors of the Paws and Protect Animal Rehabilitation and Training Center. After work he had called Sam and argued him into coming with him to meet the dogs Anna had picked out for him to interact with today. Sam liked dogs, he knew how to read their energy or some shit. He’d had a golden retriever for fourteen years and had been depressed for weeks last year when he had to put her down last year due to stomach cancer that had progressed to far to be treated.

 

“Where did that come from anyway?”

 

“You were too young to remember, but we had this neighbor in Lawrence who had this yappy little Chihuahua and--”

 

“Wait, wait, wait.” Sam cut him off, turning fully toward him and not even trying to hide his triumphant grin. “You’re afraid of dogs because of a chihuahua?”

 

“I’m not afraid!” Dean snapped, reaching across the seat to shove Sam’s shoulder.

 

“That’s pathetic, man.” Sam sank down in the seat and laughed so hard he ended up clutching his stomach.

 

“Just get out of the fucking truck.” Dean shoved open his door, Sam followed him inside still laughing. Anna was standing in the reception area talking quietly on the phone, she looked up when she heard the scuffle of Dean shoving Sam again who just leaned against the wall, pointing and laughing at the older man. She beamed happily at the two of them as she crossed the room and held out her hand.

 

“Anna Milton. You must be Sam.” Sam pulled himself together and stood up straight, reaching across to shake her hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

 

“Don’t believe anything he says.” He told her with a smirk in Dean’s direction.

 

“Oh, I hope that I can. Dean speaks very highly of you.” Dean cleared his throat at her admission and rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck. Sam’s smile faltered and then reappeared, only turned up to an eleven. Dean cleared his throat again and hurried to fill the silence.

 

“So--let’s meet the mutts, yeah?”

 

The two men followed Anna through to the back, passing rows of glass doors behind which were housed a wide assortment of dog breeds. Some lounged, some played, one sat at the glass with his nose mashed up against it and his tongue lolling out. Sam was in heaven, his face a mixture of awed wonder and derpy happiness. At the end of the hallway was a final door that opened into a spacious room that housed a gated off obstacle course and a basket of dog toys closer to the door. Anna motioned to a row of harnesses on the wall nearby. She explained how the dogs had been trained to recognize the harness as it’s authority to begin working. They should wear it outside the house at all times. Inside the house things could be a little more relaxed, the dog would act more as a pet than a service animal, but would still be able to do it’s job in the event that it was needed. Anna let Dean know that because it would be a service animal he would be entitled to take it with him into any venue, including work if he felt he needed to. With logistics laid out Anna asked her assistant to bring in the first dog.

 

Immediately Dean knew it wasn’t a good fit. The dog, a german shepherd, trotted over to him and sat down. He didn’t make eye contact, he didn’t sniff around his feet, he just sat there--creepily. Dean shook his head. A second dog came out, this one a sandy colored lab, ran circles around the room yipping excitedly until Anna picked up one of the harnesses. The lab looked disappointed that play time was over, but it crossed the room and sat beside Dean, looking glum. Dean reached a hand out to it and it sniffed his fingers. He thought maybe he didn’t meet the dogs expectations either because it turned its head toward Sam and basically flirted with him, slobbering all over his hand adoringly. Dean scowled at the look of amusement on Sam’s face. Anna giggled and waved for the dog to be taken away.

 

“I don’t think this is going to work.” Dean said after meeting four more dogs, and more than doubling the amount Anna had picked out for him. He rubbed a hand over his face and stood up with every intention of leaving.

 

“Just give this a chance, Dean.” Anna encouraged, she checked over her chart, eyes narrowing a fraction and then she whispered something to her assistant. Sam studied his face, and turned to the woman with a fierce expression.

 

“He’s had enough.” Sam said quietly, laying a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

 

“But--”

 

“Look, you’re a doctor right? So you should be able to tell that this is getting him worked up.” Sam snapped at her. Dean didn’t think he even realized how hard he was gripping his shoulders. His fingers dug in deep enough that Dean knew he’d have a bruise. But--he didn’t mind the biting pain. To the contrary he felt like it grounded him a little. “He’s had enough.”

 

“Sam, I understand you feel the need to protect him, but--”

 

“I’m not your patient so maybe instead of trying to figure me out you should do your job and be a little more concerned about protecting him yourself.”

 

“You guys.” Dean broke in quietly, but no one heard because Anna was arguing back. His heart lurched in his throat. “Please just stop.” Dean slipped into a chair and put his face in his hands, telling himself he could breathe, he could stay centered, he was fine.

 

Something butted up against his chin. A cold, wetness nosed over the skin of his throat and warm air panted into his ear. Dean stayed still, realizing it was another dog, tucking it’s head into the crook of Dean’s neck. He dropped one hand onto it’s back, fingers digging in and holding on, maybe too tightly, but the dog didn’t’ seem to mind. He breathed in it’s slightly musky smell and counted the number of breaths it released as it leaned into him and he leaned in to it. Minutes passed in silence and when Dean sat back--he laughed.

 

“Damn…” Bright eyes greeted him from the face of the oddest looking dog he’d ever seen. It’s reddish brown face was bisected by a stripe of white that wrapped around it’s muzzle, ran the length of the belly, and splashed across its paws. One ear was pointed straight up while the other flopped down into it’s face. The eyes were lined with thick black fur, making it look like someone had lined it with kohl, not to mention one was caramel colored brown and the other was bright blue. It tilted it’s head to one side, studied him briefly and then it’s demeanor changed. Tension bled off it’s face and a floppy tongue appeared at the side of it’s open mouth. The dog licked his chin once and then laid down on top of his feet, curling itself into the smallest heap that it could.

 

“This is Koda. She is a pitbull-husky mix. Before she came here she was a search and rescue dog with a police department in Montana. Her handler was killed in the line of duty and she never quite recovered enough to return to the force. They donated her to the program two years ago. She retrained well, but this is actually the first time she’s ever connected with a candidate.” Anna looked rather pleased with herself. Dean had leaned forward in his seat and was stroking the soft fur of Koda’s back, it was a mixture of bully breed short and husky fluff. He looked to Sam who walked over and crouched down in front of him.

 

“What do you think?” Dean asked him. Koda lifted her head at the touch of Sam’s hand, sniffing him curiously. Sam smiled up at his brother.

 

“What do you think, Dean? She’s going to be your dog.”

 

“Yeah, but…do you like her?”

 

“She’s cute.” Koda snorted at Sam’s admission and turned her head away as if she were offended. Dean laughed and nudged Sam with his foot.

 

“Smart too, doesn’t fall for your shit.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Sam stood up, tucking his hands into his suit pockets and turning sheepishly to Anna. “Sorry.”

 

“So am I.”

 

After signing off on a mountain of paperwork and agreeing to come back to the center with Koda once a month for evaluation of their progress, Dean took a harness and leash from Anna’s hands and promised to see her next week in the office. Koda nudged the harness with her nose as it dangled from Dean’s hand at his side. He pondered putting it on her, remembering what Anna had said about her needing to wear it outside of the house, but he vetoed the thought. She had noticed his distress and done her job to ease it without the constricting thing, he thought she was going to be just fine. He headed for the door, only looking over his shoulder once. She met his eyes with a head tilt and then trotted after him. He was--pleased. She was smart. Weirdly so. He opened the truck door and she climbed inside, settling easily into the seat between he and Sam.

 

“Wow. Look how far you’ve come.” Sam teased. “Shaking in your boots over an ankle biter to making heart eyes at the fiercest breed in the world.”

 

“Shut your mouth.” Dean growled. He shouldn’t have told the brat about the damn chihuahua.

 

 

 

 

 *****

 

 

 

 

From the first time Koda followed him into the house--it was her palace. She did whatever she wanted, and Dean was powerless to stop her. He’d forced her off his bed that first night, pointing to the floor and nudging her with his foot. She’d looked at him with the saddest eyes he’d ever seen and he’d caved immediately. Back into bed she jumped, nosing her way under the cover and curling up right under Dean’s butt. When he rolled over in the night, she pressed up against his side and laid her head on his stomach or the small of his back depending on which side he lay on. She refused to eat unless he was eating as well, she ignored the rubber squeaky bone toy he bought her the first day, but became obsessed with one of Gracie’s old toys--a stuffed orange cat he found under the couch when digging for the remote he dropped.

 

The first few days as he left for work she would follow him to the door and whine softly even after he scratched her ears and closed the door. He felt guilty about it, it must be lonely for a dog home alone all day, but when he started leaving the tv on cartoon network when he left she would just curl up on his cushion and wag her tail at him in a promise that she would be waiting when he returned. She followed him out to barn in the afternoons to dance around the horses legs yapping at them like she wanted them to play, but shying away when they nickered back at her, and afterwards she would lay in his lap and snooze as he read on the couch or watched the nightly news. Nightly news or as was the case one night a week--Dr. Sexy MD. He was definitely not wiping a misty tear from his eye when his phone buzzed from the cushion over and a smile ghosted across his face.

 

“Did you see it?” Cas demanded, barely even letting Dean get out a hello before talking over him. Charlie had ‘let slip’ to Cas when he had joined the two of them for lunch earlier in the week that Dean was what she called a super fan of the drama. He made the appropriate amount of fun, but texted Dean a few nights later that he  had binge watched the entire series and he was dying to catch up on the newest season. Charlie had hooked him up with the bootleg copies and he’d told Dean excitedly that he was finally going to be able to watch the newest episode when it aired.

 

“Yes.” Dean tried not to sound overly affected by the newest drama that had played out on screen, but he couldn’t help but play in to Cas’s enthusiasm. “What the hell was Charlotte thinking?”

 

“Argh, she’s terrible. I love it.” They chatted about their favorite moments, Dean wanted to die of cuteness overload when Cas shyly admitted that the moment when Dr. Sexy told Tara (his newest love interest and, for Cas and Dean at least, hopefully his last) that he didn’t care that she’d left for half a year (the actor had taken maternity leave and came back mid season) and gained forty pounds because he had never found her more beautiful, was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard. “I don’t tell many people this, so don’t go spreading it around, but I used to be really overweight.”

 

“Really?” Dean shifted on the couch, stretching his legs out and leaning his head against the arm of the sofa. Koda snorted her displeasure and shoved her body beneath his knees. Dean scratched her ear lazily and waited for Cas to continue.

 

“Yes, people seemed to take offense.” Dean heard Cas shifting around on the other end of the line and he wondered if he was in bed, snuggling into the covers, which segwayed into wondering what he wore to bed. “It was--traumatic to say the least.” He sounded sad then and Dean wished there was something he could say to make him feel better, wished he could have known Cas then so that he could stick up for him. “The weight coupled with the fact that I’ve basically always been the weirdest guy in the room--it made for a pretty lonely existence. I would have killed for some hunky muscular dude to sweep me off my feet and declare his love for my stomach rolls.”

 

Dean pulled up the hem of his shirt and stared at his ‘dad bod’ as the young people were calling it these days. He didn’t think he would have qualified as Cas’s idea of hunky and muscular. “You’re pretty fit now.”

 

“I work my ass off.” Cas laughed softly and Dean smiled along. “Literally, Dean, I literally work my ass off.”

 

“Wish I had your dedication.” He given up working out along the same time he’d given up on the idea that he’d get to keep his mangled leg. He got enough exercise tossing hay bales around for the horses and walking to the mailbox every evening that he wasn’t worried overly much about heart disease at least.

 

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” Cas’s tone sent a shiver of anticipation firing through Dean’s body. “I saw you naked the one time remember? I didn’t hate it.” Dean chuckled and covered his face with his hand even though Cas couldn’t see his blush through the phone.

 

“We agreed never to speak of that.”

 

“Um, that is not a thing we ever agreed on.” They were quiet for a moment and then Cas added. “Also I remember a few pretty impressive tattoos, always adds to the sexy factor.”

 

“Sexy factor, hmm?”

 

“You’re not quite at Dr. Sexy’s level, but you are definitely farther up the scale than say, Zachary Levi. Who is a solid seven.” Dean could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

 

“Thanks, asshole.” He joked. Cas moved around on his end again, Dean imagined him in bed, one hand tucked beneath his head, one half of his mouth upticked in a smile that would definitely drop Dean’s panties if he wore them.

 

“So what about you? What were you like in high school?” Cas asked after he’d gotten settled in. Dean sighed.

 

“Yeah I was--I was a dick, man. You’d have hated me.”

 

“Come on, you couldn’t have been that bad.” Dean recognized it for the ploy it was to get him to explain further so he indulged the man begrudgingly.

 

“I had a rough go of things you know? Upbringing wise. Not at first, we were--we were like the Walton’s, Man. Mom made apple pie every Sunday. Dad taught me how to ride a bike and catch a ball. It was good.” Dean’s laugh was mirthless, bitter, and Cas made a soft sound of understanding so he went on. “And then my mom died. I was nine, Sam was only five. I uh--I had to drag him out of the house. I couldn’t get my dad to leave. He wouldn’t leave my mom even though--even though--”

 

“It’s ok, Dean.” Cas murmured softly, “You don’t have to--”

 

“I don’t mind.” And he really didn’t. He actually wanted to tell Cas. He wanted him the __know__  things about him, things that mattered. “I don’t mind telling you, Cas. If--if you want to know.” It was pleading, he realized that, he was begging Cas to want to know, he didn’t know how he would react if he said no.

 

“I do.” Dean breathed a sigh of relief. He almost wanted to cry. For a long moment he just lay there, and Cas didn’t push, only waited.

 

“So after that my dad was a wreck. He was drunk ninety percent of the time and he had these really insane religious delusions about demons and knights of hell. He--one time when I was twelve he made me down a bunch of vodka and because I flinched--a fucking twelve year old flinched over drinking vodka--he said I was possessed, it was holy water and I flinched so I was possessed. I swear I thought he was going to kill me.”

 

“Jesus christ, Dean.” Cas’s voice was hoarse, like maybe he was on the verge of a breakdown just like Dean. Koda wriggled up from under his legs and lay down on his stomach, staring up at him with soft eyes. He rubbed her ears and continued.

 

“We were driving one night, running from some monster in his head and he swerved into oncoming traffic. Sam and I walked away with a few scratches but, dad…he didn’t make it. We went to live with a family friend after that. No one knew who I was there. No one knew about my tragic past or my crazy father who dropped me off on church steps to be cleansed of impurities. I let it go to me head. I was a dick.” Dean rubbed his face, listened to Cas’s breathing. “I must have slept with the entire female population, and broke half of their hearts making promises I had no intention of keeping.”

 

“So what happened?” Cas asked when Dean had gone silent for a long span of minutes. “What changed?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You seem like a pretty good man now…what was the catalyst?”

 

“Sammy.” Dean smiled then, in the way only brought on by thinking of his little brother. “Sammy started high school. I was coming out of the janitor’s closet with this girl and there he was, walking down the hall with his nerdy double shoulder backpack and he looked at me with this complete hero worship complex and I realized--I was all he had. He was watching me and I was--I was just like my dad.”

 

“Dean…”

 

“No, I was. Maybe I didn’t douse him in __holy water__  and make him memorize Latin fucking exorcisms at seven years old, but I was just as bad. So--I started being better. I dropped out of school, which ok, doesn’t sound like a good example, but I got my GED pretty fast and I enlisted with the Marines.” Dean paused, realizing he’d talked for a long time with little more than two breaths. He laughed and wondered if Cas was getting ready to run for the hills yet. “Couldn’t fuck the kid up if I was thousands of miles away more than half the time.”

 

“Wow.” Was Cas’s only reply and Dean could practically hear him lacing up his sneakers, getting ready for the gun shot that started his race in the opposite direction. He hated this--this being vulnerable shit. It was for the birds. It made his chest hurt. It made him breathe funny. It made Cas laugh. Wait--why was Cas laughing. Shit--he’d been talking out loud.

 

“Forget I said that.”

 

“Not a chance.” Cas replied. And then, “I ate my feelings.”

 

“What?”

 

“I was overweight because I ate my feelings. I realized I was gay at 11 years old when Tommy Benton’s older brother came to the pool party in, frankly, indecent swimming shorts and I couldn’t stop staring at his abs. Back then--gay was not okay. Not to mention my parents were super religious and I was terrified that I was going to hell. I prayed and prayed and prayed, but it never went away. I just kept wanting dudes and so--I ate. All the time. It got worse when I was sixteen and my--my brother Jimmy died. By senior year I was pushing 280 easy. And it was because I was gay. And depressed. And sometimes suicidal. Eating made me feel better.”

 

“And people bullied you?”

 

“Yeah. Well at first they just ignored me, but then they got bored and moved on more aggressive ways of torture.”

 

“Did they--was it physical or…”

 

“No, not really. I mean I was so delusional about the gay thing no one else knew and that was really the only thing people got mad enough about to beat you up for. So it was just--it was more emotional.” They fell in to contemplative silence, Cas shifting yet again in bed and Dean scratching Koda’s neck rolls. He smiled to himself.

 

“I’m having a hard time picturing you like that.” Dean admitted.

 

“Like what? Fat or emotional?” Cas joked, grin evident in his voice.

 

“The first. You just end up looking like a paler version of Dwayne The Rock Johnson.” Cas’s laughter filled his head up with sugar plum fairies and baby unicorns. He grinned and half hid his face in the couch cushion. Goddamn, but he was falling really hard and really fast.

 

“I bet you--” Koda rolled off the couch and bounded to her feet, staring intently at the door and letting out a soft bark. “Did you get a dog?”

 

“I--yeah. Who the hell…” Dean trailed off headlights flashed through the front window and lit up the darkened living room. He checked his watch, it was half twelve and he couldn’t figure out who would be visiting at this time of night. “Hey, Cas, I’m gonna have to let you go.”

 

“Sure, no problem. See you in the morning?”

 

“Tea will be waiting for you.” Dean said with a smile. He let Cas hang up first and then got to his feet, swinging the door open before there was even a knock. Charlie stood on his door step, arms wrapped around herself, eyes blazing with sadness, anger maybe, and--fear. His eyes widened as he noted her lip was split and swollen .“Charlie! Come in, what the hell happened?”

 

“I--we got into an argument.” She came inside, but instead of going past him into the house, she stopped at his chest and wrapped her arms around him in a fierce hug. He hugged her back just as tightly. “We got into a fight and she said all of these awful things and I told her about Meg and she--she kicked me out. Four years I’ve put up with her shit. Four years, Dean!” She sobbed quietly into his chest and he rubber her back gently, doing his best not to feel awkward.

 

“Did--did you want her to forgive you? I thought sleeping with Meg was your way of, I don’t know, getting out.”

 

“That’s not the point!” Charlie whined, still clinging to him. “It was supposed to be my win, my decision. She took that from me. Just like she takes everything. I’m not saying cheating was my smartest move ok, it kind of sucked, but she--she was no saint. I--she…” Dean got the feeling that Dorothy had been a lot more abusive to Charlie than his friend would ever say out loud. He held her closer and kissed the top of her head.

 

“You need a place to stay?” He asked softly. She pulled away and looked at him with lips quivering.

 

“You don’t mind? Just until--” She trailed off, bit her lip, and then released it with a wince.

 

“No, rush.” He motioned to Koda who was standing at alert, watching them with curious eyes. She trotted over and butted her head against Charlie’s thigh. “Already got the one broad, how bad can one more be?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Iceman who asked for a husky. She’s not a full husky but I changed her coloring for you and I hope you like Koda nonetheless :)


	14. How many Hints must I take before you get The picture

Turned out Dean was wrong. Having Charlie in the house was not as easy as it had at first seemed. She was messy and loud, never changed the toilet paper roll after using one up. She’d only been there for a week and in all honesty--she was killing him. Almost quite literally. Dean slammed into the door frame leading from the living room into the kitchen, barely managing to keep himself upright.

 

“Dammit, Charlie !” He yelled, hand reaching up to rub the sore spot on his forehead where it had collided with the wall. She padded in from the direction of the guest room a few moments later, rubbing her eyes and yawning hugely.

 

“Dude, not all of us leave the house at five in the morning. Could you keep it down?” Her voice was whiny as she snatched the coffee pot off the stand and shook it to check if any had been made.

 

“If you wouldn’t leave you’re shit lying around I wouldn’t brain myself on the way through the house.”

 

“Oops.” She genuinely looked concerned. She tore a napkin off the holder on the bar and wet it, then brought it around to wipe at the small cut on his forehead. “I’ll make it up to you? I used a personal day today to go look at some apartments. I’ll clean up before you get home and--I’ll bring wine.”

 

“I hate wine.” Dean grumbled at her, pouting as she took a band-aid out of the junk drawer and pressed it over his ‘boo boo’ as she called it condescendingly.

 

“Fine. Jack Daniels for you, wine for me. And--I’ll cook! Am I forgiven?”

 

“Yes.” Dean conceded. Charlie grinned and poked him in the stomach.

 

“Now then, get to work, honey. Have a good day!” She teased giving him a little shove as he turned to leave.

 

“I told you to stop doing that!” He stopped to lean down over the couch to give Koda a kiss on the head, he’d really fallen for the mutt, it was irritating. “It’s weird.”

 

“You love it.” She sang.

 

“No I don’t!” He sang back. Maybe he did, just a tiny bit, but only because it meant his house wasn’t empty and he wasn’t alone and it was nice. Even if she was just his gay best friend.

 

 

 

 

Dean had the most insane day of his short tenure at Nor Prep. There were six fights. Six. The last one was the worst. Some girl took a flying leap onto another girls back and slammed her face into a wall. There was blood everywhere quickly joined by hair and spit and flailing limbs. Cas took an elbow to face as he pried them apart with the help of Balthazar who was fighting a laugh the entire time. Dean stood there surveying the mess with his hands on his hips, shaking his head. How could two sixteen year olds do so much damage and what in the hell did they even have to fight about?

 

“Got any more of those Scooby Doo band-aids?” He turned to find Cas watching him with a smirk. Dean touched his forehead, he had never removed the cheap children’s band-aid Charlie had applied that morning. He smiled sheepishly at Cas and shrugged.

 

“All out.” He walked over to where Cas was standing and absentmindedly brushed his thumb over the swelling of Cas’s upper lip. He felt the sharp intake of breath and let his eyes flicker between Cas’s darkening gaze and his parted lips. “I don’t think it would do very much good here anyway.”

 

“Wanna kiss it better?” Cas whispered breathily, lifting his eyebrows in invitation. Dean licked his lips, leaning in just a fraction and--the bell rang, doors banged open all around and the hall filled with bustling teenagers, gossiping about the full-moon crazy going around turning everyone into Chuck Norris. Cas snapped his fingers and made a face of displeasure. “Saved by the bell.”

 

“I don’t know if I’d agree with that.” Dean murmured with an easy smile. Cas winked at him and strolled away, whistling in that adorable way of his.

 

 

 

 

Two Friday’s later--Dean was drunk and it was all Charlie’s fault. Every Friday that came without her finding a place of her own saw her and Dean drinking until one or both of them blacked out. He didn’t really put up very much of a fight about the matter, but he still blamed her none the less. Right now he should be having a sober dinner with his brother at a bad restaurant, instead he was snuggled into a flowery pillow case whining to Charlie about Cas.

 

“I mean--you’ve seen us right? We flirt so good. And he touches me, not bad touch either, but really good touch. Like the other day I was on the ladder with the lights and he just comes up and ties my shoe. Just ties it with the little bunny ears, like its the most natural thing in the world for him to do, and then he smiles with his stupid face wrinkles, that are you know--stupid. And adorable.” Dean blathered, voice muffled by a mouth full of Charlies pillow. He peaked out with one eye to make sure she was paying attention to him. Wine slipped down her chin as she tried to nod while simultaneously drinking from the mostly empty bottle. He continued. “So, so, so obviously he’s in to me right? I only just became gay-ish adjacent so correct me if I’m wrong.”

 

“Totally in to you.” Charlie agreed.

 

“Thank you! So what the fuck? Why has all of this time went by and he still hasn’t asked me--asked me to--if I wanted to--”

 

“Date?” Charlie supplied. He snapped his fingers and pointed at her.

 

“Yes, that! Are we just going to be one of those irritating friends on tv shows that go like fourteen seasons with painfully unresolved sexual tension? Cause I’ve watched those tv shows, Charlie, and they suck! They fucking suck!”

 

“You know, Dean.” She began setting the empty bottle off onto the floor. She took a moment to pet Koda, who had jumped off the bed an hour ago when Dean and Charlie started up karaoke and she got tired of being bounced around by their antics. “You could always ask him.”

 

“What? No I most certainly can not.” Dean struggled to sit up, expression horrified and offended. “Charlie--I’m the girl!”

 

“ _What_?” Charlie gaped at him, a startled laugh sputtering out of her mouth.

 

“I’m the girl. The girl does __not__  ask the guy for a date. It doesn’t work that way.” Dean insisted adamantly.

 

“Just--you think you’re the girl?”

 

“I know I’m the girl.”

 

“This I gotta hear.” Charlie laughed, sitting cross legged, fully facing him and focusing as much as she could in her inebriated state.

 

“You want proof?” Dean asked, cracking his neck and knuckles like he was getting ready for a fight. “Fine. I have reasons and stuff.”

 

“Hold on, hold on! Let me just…” Charlie fumbled with her phone and took a good minute and a half trying to get it to focus on him and then grinned. “Action, baby.”

 

“Ok, ok. Four reasons.” Dean said, holding up three fingers.

 

“Four reasons why you’re the girl and Cas is the guy.”

 

“Yep, right. Reason number one--Sam said so.” Dean dropped one finger. “Sam said I was the girl and Sam--he __knows__  things.” Dean wiggled his remaining fingers and smiled dazzlingly in the general vicinity of the camera. Charlie giggled and motioned for him to continue. “Reason two--”

 

“Why you’re the girl and Cas is the guy.”

 

“Right--why do you keep saying that?”

 

“For the benefit of your audience.” She supplied with a mischievous grin. Dean looked around the room. His only audience was Charlie and the dog, he shrugged it off.

 

“Ok, so reason two--he’s _aggressive_.”

 

“Aggressive how?”

 

“The elevator thing.”

 

“What elevator thing? I haven’t heard this story.” Charlie fumbled off camera for the whiskey bottle on the bedside table, dropping the phone momentarily. The two of them fought over who got the last drink and then Charlie was filming him again.

 

“I kissed him in the elevator.” Dean said nonchalantly.

 

“Ok--but you just said girls don’t make first moves…”

 

“It didn’t count like that. I was just trying to--to help him out you know. He’s the one who slammed me up against a wall and put his tongue so far down my throat he could probably taste my fucking soul.” Charlie ohhed and ahhed at all the right places and it gave Dean the confidence he needed to move on to the next point, which admittedly, was a bit dicey. “Three--Cas wears his--you know, his __thing__  on the left.”

 

“His thing? What are we in third grade?”

 

“His dick, Charlie. He puts his dick on the left. You know how I know that? Because I pay attention. Way too much attention. I’m the girl in this relationship because as a guy in all of my other relationships I never paid _that_  much attention to someone. Enough attention that I would know where they wanted me to tuck there dick in their pants in the event they lost use of their arms and couldn’t do it themselves.” Dean paused and covered his mouth with his hand. He held up a finger and fought down whatever was trying to claw it’s way up out of his gut. “So there you have it…I’m the girl. Cas is the guy. He’s supposed to do the move making.” He flopped down on his stomach and snuggled back into Charlie’s pillow. She used her foot to nudge at him.

 

“You said four reasons.”

 

“Hmm?” He mumbled, already dozing off even though he’d only just laid down.

 

“Four, Dean. You’re adoring fans are waiting for four reasons.” Charlie kicked him lightly again and kept going until he shewed her off.

 

“Ok, ok. Four…four. Ah!” He leaned up on his elbow, one half of his mouth lifted in a devilish grin, green eyes glittering darkly. “His voice.”

 

“Okaaay, now you’re just reaching.”

 

“Give me a minute to explain, brat.”

 

“Alright..go on then.”

 

“Cas’s voice is--it’s like--it’s like sex. Deep and rough. It’s like…you know the pressing…pulling…grinding and then you hit the sweet spot and everything just builds and builds and builds until it all just…” Dean trailed off, mimicking an explosion with his hands. His face went slack as he attempted to capture the _feeling_  of Cas’s voice. But he was distracted, his brain supplying audio visuals that made him lick his lips and groan.

 

“Keep it in your pants, Winchester.” Charlie dragged him out of the land of ‘fuuuuck me noooow’ and he had the good graces to blush as he shifted uncomfortably to ease the tightness in his pants.

 

“Right. Cas’s voice makes me the girl because it’s so damn sexy…that it makes _me_ wet. And I don’t have a vagina.” With that, he laid back down and nuzzled in to the pillows again.

 

“So, Dean, on a scale of one to Charlie Sheen--how inebriated are you exactly?” Charlie asked. He grinned and flipped her off.

 

“I raise your Charlie Sheen and give you Mel Gibson.” He joked and then lifted his head briefly to scowl at her. “But that in no way effects the validity of the statements I have made.”

 

“We get it Dean--you’re the girl.”

 

“Damn straight.” He mumbled and promptly began to snore.

 

 

 *****

 

 

“Fuck off.” Dean groaned, slapping his hand around on the bed, trying to locate his ringing cell phone. Koda barked when his hand collided with her nose and he found himself apologizing as if he’d just struck his child. Goddamn this dog for making him like her so much. Where was the fucking phone? The ringing stopped and he rolled onto his back, eyes greeted angrily by the light filtering in from the window. Where were his fucking curtains? Where the hell was he?

 

“You gonna get that?” Charlie grumbled from nearby him in the bed, burying her head under a pillow when his phone started ringing again. “I hate you so much right now.”

 

“Why--” His phone clipped him on the ear when his friend found it first and chucked it at him. “Hello?”

 

“Hey, buddy.” Sam sounded much too cheerful for Dean’s liking. “How’s it feel to be famous?”

 

“What the fuck are you talking about, Samuel.” Dean demanded, sitting up on the edge of the bed and willing the room to stop spinning. How much did he drink last night? Why had he been drunk more often in the last three months than he’d been collectively in the last two years?

 

“You’ve gone viral dude.”

 

“Viral? I haven’t had sex in years. No way am I--”

 

“Not like that, dumbass.” Sam laughed, jarring Dean’s head. “Facebook, you’re video has gone viral. It’s been viewed like a million times.”

 

“You’re hurting my head right now. What video?” Suddenly, the memory of Charlie and her phone recording his drunken tirade about Cas and goading him in to “making his fans happy” ice picked it’s way into his brain. “Son of a bitch.”

 

“You didn’t know? This is the best day of my life.” Sam was doing the jarring laughter thing again.

 

“Were you being literal? Did you say a million people have seen it?”

 

“Well, it could be some of the same people watching it multiple times, but it has like three thousand shares, man.”

 

“Please kill me.” Dean turned and hit Charlie in the face with a pillow. Koda took this as a sign to play and caught it happily in her jaws and jerked it back and forth with her head. “Charlie! Delete the damn video.”

 

“That’s not the way it works, D.” Sam was obviously enjoying himself way too much. “You can’t just delete something from the internet.”

 

“Why the hell not?” He glared at Charlie as she surfaced and began giddily checking her phone.

 

“Dude, this is the best day of my life.”

 

“Tell her that’s what I said.” Sam cut in excitedly. “Ask her if she’s reading the comments.” Dean had grown queasy as his voice filtered through Charlie’s speakers describing in detail the very sexual nature of the effect Cas’s voice had on Dean’s body.

 

“This is not funny. What if he sees it?” Charlie’s laughter faded into silence and Dean closed his eyes. “Please tell me he hasn’t seen it?”

 

“Um…he’s definitely seen it.” Charlie held out her phone and Dean took it with a scowl.

 

“What are all the hearts floating around?”

 

“That’s when people liked it--or rather loved it.” Sam told him. Dean focused on what Charlie had intended for him to see. Cas had left three comments. He was briefly distracted by trying to see the picture that accompanied them. It was taken at an extreme overhead angle and showed him squinty eyed and smirking and Dean wanted to zoom in and stare, but he was already being judged by a million strangers, he didn’t want to add Charlie to the mix.

 

 

**Castiel Novak : I love how ‘righteous man’ he is being about the whole thing. Evidently he’s got an in with the people who decide these things.**

**Castiel Novak : He’s right, you know, being drunk does not affect the validity of his statements.**

**Castiel Novak : Also this video needs to be rated M for mature…Dean’s face at point number four is clearly not meant for those unable to vote.**

****

****

“Why?!? Charlie, why?”

 

“In my defense I was just as drunk as you were last night.”

 

“Yes, but you’re not the one who made a fool of themself.” The video had zoomed in on the half of Dean’s face that was not smashed into the pillow. He could hear himself snoring and then the camera flipped to an unflattering close up of Charlie’s nostrils before the rest of her face came into view.

 

“You heard it here first, folks. Isn’t he just adorable?” A brief flash of Dean’s sleeping face and then back to Charlie. “Cas, get your head out of your ass.” She winked exaggeratedly and smirked at the camera. “Dean’s got a better one anyway.”

 

“I hate you.”

 

“You’ve said that already.” Charlie didn’t seem bothered, she took her phone back, fingers flying over the screen as she created a message.

 

“What are you saying? Don’t encourage these people.”

 

“It’s out of my hands now, Deano.” Her phone started dinging with new notifications and her face brightened. “Holy shit. The shares jumped like a hundred more times.

 

“Can I get your autograph?” Sam laughed over the line and Dean hung up on him. Koda followed him out of the room when he stormed out.

 

“You’re my only friend.” He whined to her. She barked and wagged her tail at him, butting her head against his hand and insisting on an ear scratch.

 

“Don’t be so dramatic.” Charlie called out to him.

 

“I’m kicking you out!” Dean yelled back.

 

He needed to get some better friends.

 

  


 *****

 

 

“Ok, guys! Tell Mr. Dean thank you and let’s wrap up lunch ok!” Jody called waving the little kids away from Dean and Koda, who he had brought with him to the community center on Sunday. He had made her wear the service harness for all of an hour before divesting her of it and letting her follow freely behind him as he went about his duties. She was on her back in the grass, legs sprawled and tongue lolling all over the place as the kids petted and scratched her belly. One by one they began to trickle away and Koda rolled over with a snort, turning her face up to Dean.

 

“What? It’s not my fault you little hoochie.” He said with a laugh, flicking her ear. She shook her whole body in response then turned her butt to him, looking expectantly over her shoulder for him to scratch her rump.

 

“Seems like she’s been spending too much time with you.” Dean’s hand slipped off the brick planter he’d been leaning on and he stumbled forward, Cas’s deep throaty chuckle as he stepped forward to steady him sent electricity rushing through Dean’s core. He had no control over the shudder that licked up his spine or the heat that flushed his face. Cas did not bother trying to hide his pleasure.  “Falling for me already, Dean?”

 

Dean huffed out a laugh. “Oh god man…that was so cheesy.”

 

“I call it like I see it.” Cas’s eyes glimmered wickedly and the edges of his nose crinkled with along with his smile. Dean was reeling. _Oh, man, that is so fucking adorable _.__ Cas’s fingers twitched where the continued to grip his bicep and Dean dropped his gaze to take in the sigh. The tips disappeared under the sleeve of his shirt, dragging the material up the barest inch. Cas’s dark fingers drifted over the lines of the tattoo there and Dean had the sudden image of his nails digging in as Dean pressed him into his mattress and-- “Dean?”

 

“Yes!” Dean blurted too fast and too loud. He forced his eyes back up to Cas’s face, cleared his throat, and tried again? “Yeah! Yes?” Not great--but better. _Fucking idiot, Winchester._  Dean cleared his throat several more times in row. “Stop with the smiling.” He finally demanded.

 

“You don’t like my smile?” Cas asked facetiously, smile turning more smug than ever. “Most people think it’s quite charming.”

 

“Cocky is what it is. Cocky and ado--annoying.” Dean really, really wanted to stop being so damn affected.

 

“I apologize, Dean.” Cas’s trained his features into the most severe expression Dean had ever seen him carry, his blue eyes nearly hidden behind narrowed lids. “Is this more preferable?” Dean bit back a smile.

 

“Much.”

 

“It’s quite painful. Can I stop now?” Dean’s laugh forced itself passed his hard pressed lips and Cas flinched as a spray of spittle flecked onto his face. “Well, then.”

 

“Fuck. Sorry!” Out of sheer instinct, Dean cleaned Cas’s face like he would have wiped Gracie’s or Michael’s after a food accident…he picked up the edge of his shirt and swiped. Cas watched with a fond smile as horror and humiliation colored his face for the nine hundredth time. “I hate myself so much right now.”

 

“I think you’re adorable.” Cas teased easily and Dean was suddenly quite bashful. He covered his eyes briefly with his hand. “So are you going to introduce me?”

 

“In-introduce you to…?” Dean breathed, eyes tracking the movement of Cas’s head as he tilted it to the side and narrowed his eyes inquisitively as if the answer to that question should be obvious.

 

“To your dog, Dean.”

 

“Yeah. Yes. This is Koda.” He turned to gesture to the dog, but he had miscalculated just how close Cas was standing and he ended up hitting him hard enough in the side with his hand that Cas grunnted and stepped back. “Shit, man, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry.”

 

“This reminds me of the time we first met.” Cas said jokingly, rubbing his side with a wince. “When you head butted me.”

 

“Arghfff.” The sound Dean made was unintelligible and he had to hide behind his hands again. Koda moved closer to him and pressed up against his leg. Dean pushed a sharp breath through his nose, told himself to calm down. _You are a grown ass man. Stop. It. Now._  He was behaving like a juvenile.

 

“You’re acting rather…twitchy today, Dean.” Cas was none the wiser to the war going on in his head, or the bastard knew all too well and he was feeding the trashcan fire. Dean narrowed his eyes, he was going to go with the latter.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Yes?” Cas teased, playing off of Dean’s own recent struggle for words. Dean rucked a hand through his hair and dropped his chin to his chest.

 

“C’mon, man, stop torturing me.” He pleaded, looking up through his lashes. “That’s what you’re doing right.” Cas shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels.

 

“Guilty.” Dean really wanted to wipe the shit eating grin off of his face. “Couldn’t help it. This weekend has proven very--illuminating.”

 

“So…” Was the best and brightest that Dean could come up with.

 

“So…” Cas mimicked, his voice dropped an octave. Dean’s eyes fluttered, _fluttered _,__ like a goddamn Nora Roberts heroine. Not that Dean knew anything about Nora Roberts novels. “You have a real problem, Dean.”

 

“I do?”

 

“Yeah, yes. I believe it’s called a voice kink. You need help, Dean. I’m willing to make the sacrifice.” Cas laid a hand on his shoulder and Dean laughed incredulously.

 

“Fuck you, man.” He met Cas’s amused gaze and bit his lip. “So..about the video. I didn’t know she was going to put that up. Or tag you in it. Or that it was going to be seen by your entire student body and a--ahem--few of their friends.”

 

“To be honest it was the most creative way anyone has ever come up with to get my attention.”

 

“I wasn’t--” Dean noted the smirk had widened and he groaned. “You’re being such a dick about it though.” He was whining. He knew he was, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “Put me out of my misery, Novak.”

 

“Oh, but it’s so much fun to keep you there.” Cas replied with a chuckle. Koda barked then, thoroughly done with standing there watching those two idiots. Green and blue eyes broke contact and turned to look at her. She put her belly to the ground, butt in the air wiggling madly and barked again. “She really has spent too much time with you.” Dean gave him a light shove, smiling and shaking his head. Cas proceeded to crouch down at his feet and Koda bounded into him. “Whoa, easy there, girl.” He said, rocking back but managing to keep his balance as he roughed up her fur. The hem of his shirt rode up, baring a strip of skin above his basketball shorts. Dean’s mouth went dry, he rolled his eyes at himself, demanded his brain to stop reacting like a horny teenager. “Aren’t you a cutie.”

 

Koda licked his face and lay on her back, offering her belly for his hands. Dean shook his head. “Whore.”

 

“Don’t you listen to him, baby. He’s just jealous cause he wants my hands all over him too.” If nothing else registered in Dean’s brain, Cas murmuring the word __baby__  low and raspy definitely did. He swallowed hard and glanced around to make sure he wasn’t in anyone’s eyesight before quickly dropping his hand to shift the bulge at the front of his jeans to a less noticeable position. What the fuck was happening to him. He’d hit puberty 25+ years ago. damn it. Cas turned his face up and smiled. “I think she likes me.”

 

“Looks that way.” Dean’s voice cracked right down the middle. _Stop being eye level with my dick_ , he thought hard in Cas’s direction. He almost laughed when it worked and Cas rose to his full height.

 

“Ok, all joking aside--the video.” Dean waited, hoping for the best, but expecting the worst. “I didn’t realize you were waiting on me to, how did you put it, be the guy?”

 

“Yeeeah. That was--I was being ridiculous.”

 

“No, No. I’m not saying I mind.” Cas reassured him quickly, closing the distance between them and, to Dean’s astonishment, linking their fingers. “I’m saying I thought I was being pretty obvious.” Dean stared at their hands, they looked really good together. Cas’s long tanned fingers wrapped lightly around Dean’s paler and scarred ones. “I was sort of under the impression that the making out thing coupled with texting you all day when I should really being focusing on disciplinary meeting and community service requirements, spending time together outside of work, and the fact that pretty much three nights a week I’m on the phone with you until three in the morning--” He trailed off, half smile turning into a full blown grin. “I mean I like my friends, Dean, but I don’t put nearly as much effort into them as I’ve been putting into you.”

 

“Yeah?” Dean breathed, knowing it was a stupid thing to say given the situation, but finding that his head was completely blank of anything more profound than that. At least he wasn’t grunting. Sam and Jess often accused him devolving into a caveman when feelings were involved. One hand scratched through the hair at the back of his head and he ducked his face to hide his dumb smile. Cas flicked his chin, ducking his own face low enough to meet Dean’s eyes.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Okay?” Cas’s mouth fell open in a laugh that encompassed his entire face. Dean had never really noticed Cas’s laugh quite as much as he was noticing it now, but it literally sounded like he was saying _ha ha ha_  in the absolute dorkiest way he could imagine.

 

“Um, I mean…same?”

 

“So tonight then.” Cas said.

 

“Tonight?”

 

“Yep. Pick me up at six.” He said it so nonchalantly that they could have been talking about paper vs. plastic. Only Dean’s brain was floating somewhere in deep space and his heart literally felt like it was going to explode. “I should get back to the kids now. I told Jody I’d only be a moment.” Then, as if Dean’s mind was not already blown enough, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Cas lifted Dean’s knuckles to his lips and brushed a gentle kiss across them. “See you later, Dean.”

 

“Y-yeah.” Dean stammered, unable to tear his gaze away from where Cas lips still hovered inches from his skin. “Yes. Okay.” Cas left him standing there with a wink.

 

For a long time he just stood there. Had that really just happened? Had Cas really just strolled up and--and--was he finally going on a date with Cas? Koda’s tongue slapped at his hand, jolting him out of his reverie.

 

“Did you hear what I just heard?” Koda tilted her head curiously, tail wagging left to right. “I’m gonna trust you and take that as a yes.” Only one problem--Dean hadn’t been on a date in years. And never with a guy. It couldn’t be that much different right? Dinner. Movie. Stilted conversation in the front seat and an awkward kiss-dodging-hug goodnight. He could handle that. He could!

 

“I’m so screwed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH! I love you guys so much! Every kudo, hit, and comment make my freaking day!!!


	15. Just Glitter Lust, switch me on, Turn Me Up

Dean absolutely did not spend the next four hours freaking out. Really--he was completely collected and in control of himself. Totally chill. He one hundred percent did not sweat through three different shirts. Or down two shots of Wild Turkey to settle his nerves. He was in fact, so put together, that he had time to swing by Sam’s before picking Cas up for their date.

 

“Help me!” He demanded, throwing an armful of shirts in Jess’s face when she answered the door. She scrambled to keep them all in her grasp.

 

“Um, hello to you too.” Dean had already walked away, leaving her to deal with clothes and the open door on her own as he yelled for Sam. “He’s in the den.”

 

“This house has too many unnecessary rooms.” He grouched, stalking in the direction of the Den. Sam looked up from a mountain of paperwork he had scattered across the coffee table and smiled wryly.

 

“Well--you’re in a tizzy.”

 

“I have a date! In--” Dean glared at the watch strapped to his wrist, leeched a little more color in his face, and continued. “--in one hour and twelve minutes I have a date with Cas and I’m freaking out!”

 

“Is that why you me brought your closet?” Jess teased, straightening the pile of shirts on the back of the couch and eyeing them critically.

 

“Yes! I’ve put on three different shirts! I’ve never felt so stupid in my life.”

 

“Never looked more stupid either.” Sam smirked, motioning to his own eyes. “You’ve got a little crazy going on here.

 

“I need a drink.” Dean stalked out, muttering curse words under his breath. He heard Sam’s goliath footsteps following behind him. He eyed the off-brand canned beer with distaste and turned the glare on his brother. “Really?”

 

“What? It’s good.”

 

“I think you should wear this one.” Jess crossed the kitchen and entered the laundry room beyond, carrying a plain white button up. “I’ll press it for you, you can have one beer, and ten minutes to whine. Then we’ll worry about your hair.”

 

“Two beers. And there’s nothing wrong with my hair!” Dean popped the top on the can, gaining just enough satisfaction in the spray of beer that he felt some of the tension bleed from his shoulders. He gulped it down quickly, reaching for a second. Sam slapped his hand away from the fridge.

 

“Jess said one.”

 

“She’s not the boss of me.” Dean whined, still trying to make a play for the fridge. Sam wrestled his way between him and his quest. They were in the middle of a slap fight when Jess came back in with a sharp scowl.

 

“Honestly, you two are ridiculous.” She looked Dean over and shook her head. “Take off your pants.”

 

“My--I will not!”

 

“Yes, they’re all wrinkled. And covered in dog hair. Are you sure we can’t keep Koda while--”

 

“Koda goes.” Dean said through the lump forming in his throat at the idea of leaving her behind. He could hear Gracie and Michael playing with her in the den, giggling as she fought over their socks.

 

“Fine. But I still want the pants.” She waved her hand impatiently and waited, tapping her foot until Dean began taking off his slacks. He shoved them at her and sat at the bar in his underwear, chin resting in his hand. He glowered at Sam when he took out his phone and snapped a picture.

 

“For posterity.”

 

 

 

 

 

Dean pulled in to Cas’s driveway and stared up at the yellow front door, hands gripped so tightly around the steering wheel they cracked and turned white. He could do this. This what he wanted. He wanted so very badly to go on a date with Cas. Nerves were normal. He was normal. He was good. Koda popped her head over the back seat where Jess had instructed she sit so that she wouldn’t cover him in hair again. He rubbed her snout and nodded. “Let’s go, girl.”

 

He noticed his hands shaking as he made the short walk up to the porch and he wondered if maybe he should just call Cas and tell him he had to reschedule due to severe diarrhea or something. He didn’t have the chance to seriously consider the idea as Cas opened the door before he even knocked, the biggest smile Dean had ever seen gracing his face. His eyes wandered over the form fitting dark jeans Cas had paired with a light blue Henley with the sleeves pushed up and he blanched.

 

“I over dressed.” He said looked down at the freshly ironed black slacks with the crisp white button up tucked in at the waist and sighed. “Shit.”

 

“No! No, Dean, you look--amazing actually.” Cas grinned at him, eyes lingering on the way Dean’s pants were tailored perfectly to his thighs, the way his torso narrowed at his hips, and his clavicle, bared from where he’d left the top few buttons open on his shirt.. “Really amazing. Scout’s honor.” Dean noted the exact moment he took in Koda sitting patiently at his feet. He was startled at first, then smiled. “Hey, baby.” He said softly, reaching out to stroke her, but stopping short when he saw the “I’m Working” service harness Dean had put on her after leaving Sam’s.

 

“I-is this ok? I can leave her here if you--”

 

“I don’t mind her tagging along.” Cas assured him with a smile. Dean breathed a sigh of relief. He belatedly remembered the flowers hiding behind his back and brought them around into view. Cas’s whole face light up. “Oh! Oh, wow, Dean, thank you.”

 

“They’re just--I found them in my yard.” He probably shouldn’t have mentioned that. He should have pretended to have bought them. They were simple yellow daisies, stems wrapped in twine he’d had lying around. “I didn’t know if you even liked flowers but--”

 

“They’re great. Why don’t you come inside and I’ll put them in water. I have to tell Claire I’m leaving anyway.” Dean followed him in, frowning in consternation.

 

“Claire?”

 

“My daughter.” Cas replied, heading for the kitchen with the flowers. Dean tripped over his feet and almost went to the floor. Cas threw him an amused look over his shoulder. “Didn’t you know I had a daughter?”

 

“Um--no, no I did not.”

 

“Hmm. Could have sworn I’d mentioned her before.” He took a vase down off the top of the fridge, filled it a quarter of the way with water and dropped the flowers inside. Dean was going over as much of their conversations as he could in the short span of time and could honestly say Cas had never mentioned having a kid.

 

“Is she--she’ll be ok here by herself?” Dean asked worriedly, picturing Gracie or Michael sized children. Cas gave him a wry smile.

 

“She’s seventeen, Dean.” He laughed at Dean’s open mouth surprise. “I think she’ll be fine.” He turned away, cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled for her. Dean blushed when he caught him checking out his ass. “Like what you see?” He teased softly. Dean watched with bated breath as he lifted a hand and ran the tip of his finger down the collar of Dean’s shirt. He thought it was a sexy thing at first and then thought maybe he was just turning it the correct way since somehow it had gotten twisted. He swallowed hard and set his mind to making Cas just as flustered as he was.

 

“Actually--yeah.” He dipped his own finger into the front pocket of Cas’s jeans and gave a little tug. “Yeah I think I do. Mind turning around again?”

 

“Lecher.” Cas hissed. Claire made herself known then with a fake gagging noise. Dean’s face turned beet red as he recognized her as the girl on his first day of work who’d told her friends __please tell me he’s my new daddy__. “Dean this is my daughter Claire. Claire--”

 

“I’ve seen him around.” She went to the fridge, pulling out orange juice and downing some straight from the carton. “Have him home by eleven.” She winked at her dad and sauntered away again. Cas rolled his eyes after her.

 

“Make good choices while I’m gone.” He called after her.

 

“Wear a condom!” She yelled back before she disappeared up the stairs. Dean coughed hard, choking on his own saliva.

 

“Kids.” Cas offered with a shrug and offered his hand to Dean. “Shall we?”

 

 

 

 

Their first stop was at the seediest looking back alley Chinese place Dean had ever seen. Cas laughed at the pinched look on his face.

 

“Just give it a chance ok?” Dean arched a brow in Koda’s direction.

 

“What do you think, girl? Any of your kin folks in there?” Cas pursed his lips and laughed through his nose.

 

“Just get out of the car, Dean.” Dean crossed his arms resolutely and shook his head.

 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Cas smirked and scooted closer across the seat to lean over and open Dean’s door. He hovered there afterward, so close that Dean could pick out the sharp mint of his toothpaste and something heavier, woodsy, that he assumed was Cas’s cologne.

 

“Please?” Cas pouted and Dean was gone--so very gone. “For me?”

 

“Mngph.” Dean watched the pout even out into a delicious smile and he wanted to taste it. On the next exhale he licked his lips, watched Cas do the same. On the inhale that followed he smiled because even though he’d wet them, Cas’s still looked dry enough to be painful, but Dean knew from experience that they anything but uncomfortable. Exhale, he angled his head, brought their mouths closer together. Inhale, Cas pushed him away.

 

“Ah, ah, ah, Winchester. I’m no three dollar trollop you can roll around in your backseat before we even have dinner.”

 

“Says the guy who brought me to ten cent China town.” Dean leaned his head back against the seat and sighed. Cas was laughing as he exited the car on his side, Dean gave in and followed suite, opening the back door for Koda to join them.

 

Inside the place smelled heavily of grease and incense, the fog hanging in the air that one or both were being burned somewhere farther inside. Cas smiled brightly at the young girl behind the counter who couldn’t be more than 14.

 

“Hello, Ming! Two plates to go please.”

 

“Yes, Mister Casteel.” She giggled, producing two Styrofoam takeaway plates from somewhere underneath the register.

 

“You’re not even letting me sit down to eat?” Dean whined. “What kind of date is this?”

 

“Just shut up and start loading. You take lines one and two, I’ll take three and four.” Cas handed off one of the plates and left Dean standing by himself as he headed for the buffet lines. Dean smiled fondly, completely in awe that he was even on this date, that he hadn’t thrown up from nervousness, and that Cas’s ass looked so damn good in those skinny pants Dean had always made fun of people for wearing. Never again, he decided, never ever again. Koda stayed at his side as he perused his designated lines. By the time he met up with Cas again he didn’t think it was possible for his plate to carry even a single grain of rice more. Cas nodded appreciatively. “Good haul. We have to hurry or we’re going to be late.”

 

“Late for what?”

 

 

 

 

 

Fifteen minutes out of town Dean turned the impala onto a short dirt road, pulling in next to a small guard shack and rolling the window down so that the balding Mexican man could lean in to more easily talk to Cas.

 

“Novak! Thought you weren’t going to make it, amigo.” He grinned jovially, talking so hard his teeth clacked together.

 

“Told you I’d be here. You didn’t lose my spot did you?”

 

“Got Todd up in the golf cart. Catching a lot of shit for you.” Cas grinned and passed him a bill folded so small Dean couldn’t be sure how much it was worth. “Would have done it for free.”

 

“Liar.” Cas waved at him and instructed Dean to go left when the dirt path split. Dean rounded the curve and was greeted with rows and rows of cars facing a giant screen, flickering images already playing against the backdrop of a mostly faded night sky. Cas spun the radio dial to the correct station and the sounds of Frank Sinatra hummed through the speakers. He pointed up near the front where a hot pink painted golf cart was sitting in the center spot. “There’s Todd.” Dean pulled in behind and flashed his lights, the boy squinted in through the window, giving two thumbs up when he recognized Cas in the front seat. He pulled out of the way and puttered off back toward the guard shack.

 

“Luke warm Chinese and a two for one special at the drive-in. Sure know how to make a guy feel special.” Dean joked.

 

“You hate it?” Cas asked with wide eyes, teeth sinking nervously in to his bottom lip. “Damn.”

 

“No, I--actually it’s great.” Dean genuinely meant it. He had been expecting to go to some fancy restaurant where Cas would order hors d’oeuvres, Dean would have stumbled over the foreign names on the wine list and Cas would realize how very out of his league he was. Not to mention being surrounded by snotty rich people who would be able to smell the flannel soaked into Dean’s skin and fillet him for dinner in lieu of steak. Cas’s expression turned hopeful and Dean beamed at him. “Really. I was only kidding before.”

 

“Well good. Let’s dig in to this feast.” He rubbed his hands together and reached for one of the plates. Dean caught sight of Koda sitting patiently in the back seat, watching them with mismatched eyes on alert.

 

“Hey, Cas, can you do me a favor?”

 

“Anything for you, Dear.” Cas teased. Dean rolled his eyes.

 

“I can’t really lean over with my leg, but uh--I think Koda would love to be out of that harness and--”

 

“Say no more.” Cas passed him the food to hold on to while he hung half of his body over the leather seat and worked to open the clasp on Koda’s harness. “I can feel that you know.”

 

“Feel what?”

 

“Your eyes crawling all over my ass.” Dean had the good graces to blush when Cas smirked over his shoulder at him. He had been enjoying the view, it was true. Cas dropped the harness into the floorboard and Koda immediately relaxed, shaking her body from side to side before circling the seat and finally stretching out across the full length of it. Dean watched her fondly.

 

“You know not too long ago I would have punched the person who told me I’d be letting a dog shed all over my Baby.” Cas settled in his seat, one leg tucked up underneath him, and took one of the plates to open in his lap.

 

“I had no idea she was a service dog until I saw that harness.” He commented before he took a huge bite of an eggroll and offered it up to Dean. He leaned over and bit off the end, teeth closing down close enough to graze Cas’s fingers.

 

“I don’t really make her wear the harness. Which--don’t tell anyone. I’d probably get in trouble.” Dean winked at him, the last vestiges of his nerves disappearing as he munched on only slightly cold noodles and sweet n sour chicken. Cas didn’t seem to mind that he talked with his mouth a little full. “She just seems to be, I don’t know, sad when she wears it. I know it’s kind of her job, but she does fine without it so it seems like a bummer to put it on her.”

 

“But you did tonight?”

 

“When I thought we were going some place fancy, yeah. That’d be the only way she could get in.”

 

“And you thought you might need her tonight?” Dean studied Cas’s face and ran his tone of voice over in his head, found no judgment there, and decided on the truth.

 

“I uh--I’ve been having a sort of rough time lately. With my PTSD.” Cas tilted his head so he hurried on. “Post Trau-”

 

“Matic Stress Disorder. Yeah I’m familiar. I just--you hide it pretty well.” Cas wiped his hands on his pants and set aside his food plate. Dean watched the muscle and veins of his forearm cord to the surface as he propped his elbow on the back of the seat and brought his hand up to rest his chin on. “Aside from your first day at work you’ve never really showed a lot of the usual signs.”

 

“For me it happens more at night. Or when I’m under a lot of stress it--it can make my triggers a little easier to hit on.”

 

“Makes sense. Do you--can I ask what your triggers are?” Dean looked away for the first time then. He twisted a wilted piece of cabbage around the tines of his fork for long enough that Cas pressed a hand to his knee and drew his attention back up. “Maybe another time?”

 

“Y-yeah.”

 

“I’m kind of glad you were under the assumption I was a high class date type of guy.” Cas said, eyes flickering over Dean’s body with enough heat to make him blush. “And that right there.” He tapped Dean’s heated cheeks lightly and smirked at him. “That is really something.”

 

“You’re sick, Cas. Getting off on my embarrassment.”

 

“Nah, I’d be more turned on by your pain, but--as such I was talking about the way it brings out your freckles. They’re--exquisite.” Dean’s mouth went dry. Cas basically just confessed to being a sadist and Dean well--he wasn’t mad about it. “I know what you’re thinking.”

 

“Oh do you?” Dean closed the plate of food and set it in the floor alongside of the other one and then shifted in the seat to turn more toward his date.

 

“Yes, but it’s not like that. I’m a gentle dom. Hair pulling, spanking…stuff like that. Nothing creepy. Promise.” He held up a pair of crossed fingers and ran his tongue over his teeth. Dean groaned and dropped his head back.

 

“You can’t tell a guy you’re not easy at the start of the date and then tell him what you want to do to him in bed in the middle. It sends mixed messages.”

 

“Oh--did I say I wanted to do those things to you? Or are you just assuming. You know what they say about assuming, Dean.” Cas chuckled softly as yet another wave of heat flooded Dean’s face.

 

“Hey…the words ass, you, and me together in the same sentence ain’t exactly hurting my feelings.” The words came out strained because he had to force them up through his constricting throat. Was it getting hot in here?

 

“Mmm.” Cas moaned, closing his eyes for a half second and then leaving them half lidded when he met Dean’s gaze again. “You know you’re right. They do form a rather pleasing picture.”

 

“Son of a--” Dean muttered under his breath. Pleasing picture indeed. He was sporting a half chub and they’d only shared a few racy sentences. At this rate, he’d cream his pants in the event Cas ever got close to him again. Cas’s breath blew hot against his neck as he chuckled quietly and Dean wondered when he moved closer.

 

“Dean?” His voice felt like a caress.

 

“Hmm?” __Yeah, come closer.__ Dean thought moving his face nearer to Cas’s, dangerously close. Cas laid a hand on his chest, fingers dipping just inside the open throat of his shirt.

 

“I’m parched. Let’s go get a soda.”

 

“I hate you so much.” Dean whined as Cas pulled back again laughing.

 

“May want to hid your boner, you’ll scare off the concession stand workers.” Cas teased, wagging his tongue at him. “God, you’re so easy to work up, man.”

 

“Only with you.” Dean answered honestly. It earned him enough points that when Cas joined him on his side of the car he pressed him up against it and Dean finally got that kiss he’d been chasing. It was soft and warm. Dean gripped Cas’s hip, holding him in place when he started to pull back. He slaked his thirst by dipping his tongue into the parted seam of Cas’s mouth. __Yes.__ His body seemed to sing. _Yes, this one, this one, this one _.__ He felt Cas’s hand twist in the hair at the nape of his neck, felt the sting of it as he tugged, signaling for Dean to stop, but he didn’t want to take the hint, so he refused to take the hint. Dean worked his hand under Cas’s shirt, ran his thumb over the bare skin at his hip, moaned at how delicious it felt to trace the dip down to the top of his jeans, work a finger underneath to trace the band of his underwear. Vaguely, he made note of the sharp sound of a wolf-whistle and scattered applause, but he mostly pulled away because Cas stomped on his foot. “What was that for?”

 

“Excuse me for not wanting the first time I get your hand on my dick to be in front of an audience.” Cas pressed a quick kiss to Dean’s mouth before pulling away and turning to take a bow for the row of cars honking in appreciation immediately behind them. Dean turned his back and did a hop-shimmy-tuck-away-your-hard-on dance, something he’d grown all to familiar with recently, and then almost dove back into the car to hide. Cas linked their fingers and tugged him away. “Let’s go, lover boy.”

 

Dean let Koda out of the back seat and the three of them made their way to the concession booth at the far end of the lot. When they got there and the teenager working the drink machine asked how they were enjoying the movie, Dean realized he didn’t have a clue what they were even supposed to be watching. He hadn’t even spared a single glance at the screen, he’d been too caught up in Cas.

 

“It’s very good.” Cas supplied, catching Dean’s eye and grinning like a fool.

 

“The best.” Dean agreed.

 

 

 

 

They hung around at the back for awhile. Dean bought a hotdog for Koda and tossed little bits in the air for her to catch. He was resolutely __not__ watching Cas eat the chocolate popsicle he’d purchased. It was obscene and he’d only just convinced his dick to lay back down in his pants. They held hands on the way back to the car and Cas opened his door for him with a toothy smile. When he was back in on the other side he turned to Dean and tapped his chin.

 

“Let me ask you something.”

 

“Ok.” Dean turned to him and stared him down just as seriously.

 

“You said you didn’t know about Claire. But I know I’ve bitched to you at least a time or two about messy housemates--who exactly did you think I was talking about?” When Dean turned away, red faced and stuttering, Cas grinned wide. “Oh, now you have to tell me.”

 

“You can’t think less of me for it.”

 

“Never.”

 

“I thought--you know I was thinking maybe you were, um, in an open relationship?” Dean covered his face instead of face the incredulous laughter from his date.

 

“And you were ok with that?” Cas guffawed, slapping his knee to emphasize just how funny he thought Dean’s answer was.

 

“Well! I didn’t want to question it. I really liked how things were going with us so…”

 

“So you were willing to accept a woman in my life?” Cas poked him in the side. “You are ridiculous, Winchester.”

 

“Yeah, Yeah. Whatever.” Dean really loved the way he laughed. His whole face disappeared into teeth and wrinkles and it was gorgeous. “My turn to ask you a question.” He waited for Cas’s laughter to subside, rolling his eyes to let him know how over the moment he was. Cas motioned for him to continue. “You said you knew you were gay when you were eleven. So--how does Claire fit in to that?”

 

“I was extremely insecure about my sexual orientation. Even after I left for college and I was away from my parents I was terrified by it. So I tried to, I don’t know, force myself to be straight? I was in grad school, had been friends with her mom for awhile by that point, so I asked her out. We dated for like eight months before I finally made myself sleep with her. It was--not as terrible as I thought? But it really hit home for me that, yes, I was definitely gay.” He paused, face drawn in concentration and then shrugged. “But I stayed with her because of how happy it made my mom when I told her I was seeing someone. A female someone. She’d always suspected, but I’d never actually been with anyone so she never could be sure.”

 

“What happened after that?”

 

“She got pregnant. We took it all the way to the altar. Right after Claire turned two I told her the truth, six months later we were divorced, and a year after that she decided she didn’t want anything to remember me by, including Claire.”

 

“Damn, that’s harsh.”

 

“Yeah. It was hard at first, but Claire adjusted and she’s turned in to a really amazing kid. I wouldn’t change any of it because it would mean I wouldn’t have her.” He smiled and tacked on a shrug. “So what about you?”

 

“What about me?” Dean hedged, distracting himself by tracing the lines of Cas’s palm with his fingernail. Cas let him off the hook--but not indefinitely. He turned Dean’s hand over and brought it to his lips, dropping kisses across his palm and up to his wrist and then looking up at him with some serious puppy dog eyes. “No fair.”

 

“I told you!” Cas laughed.

 

“Mostly I never had anything all that serious.” Dean admitted, linking his fingers with Cas’s, but looking away from and out the window. “There was Lisa for a little bit, but she never could adjust to my career.”

 

“She wanted you to retire?”

 

“No, just request to be stationed back home. I was going all over the place, hardly ever on American soil for more than a couple months. I wasn’t ready to give that up. It was amicable for the most part. She still let’s me hang out with Ben--her son--sometimes when we’re both free.”

 

“Anyone else?” Cas prompted when he was silent for too long. Dean nodded, sifted through the memories.

 

“Yeah.” He croaked after another too long silence. Jo’s doe like eyes filtered through his thoughts, her blonde hair spread across his pillow case in a single sized cot, desert sand scratching his tongue as he traced her collar bone. “I was engaged for a while.”

 

“Oh? What happened?” Dean just barely felt him wince as his hand tightened, fingers clenching into a fist and popping the knuckles on Cas’s own hand. He loosened his grip, rubbed his thumb over the back of his hand in apology.

 

“She died.”

 

“Shit. I’m sorry, Dean.” Cas had moved closer across the seat and as Dean drew in a sharp breath he turned his gaze back to his face. His eyes were sad, not piteous, more compassionate. Dean let go of the breath he’d held on to and smiled just enough to comfort him.

 

“I--it happened so fast.” He hadn’t talked about Jo in so long, not even to Anna, although she’d tried to get him to. He didn’t know how much he was going to get out now, with Cas, but he wanted to try. “We were friends as kids you know. Which was the crazy part. When she showed up as part of my unit I knew Bobby--that’s uh my adoptive dad I guess, he was a marine too a long time ago--he had enough clout to the higher ups to pull some strings to get her assigned there. Plus, she was a good sharp shooter, she could have made it onto a specialized tea on her own. Anyway--he trusted me to--to get her home safe.” Dean laughed and then cleared his throat. Jo’s pink lips turned down in a scowl, yelling at him to stop treating her like a child, to treat her like anyone else under his command, parting in surprise when he kissed her in response, laughing when he blurted out his proposal one day months later, smiling even as he kissed her for the last time and her fingers slipped away from the gaping hole in her belly and he was left holding something that wasn’t even her anymore. “She understood the life because it was who she was too. It was so fast. And everyone hated it. God her mom was so pissed. But then--then she died. So.” He shrugged, turning his face away to wipe the cold wetness onto his shirt.

 

“Okay?” Cas’s voice was so soft, both hands were wrapped around one of Dean’s squeezing hard, showing that he was there. Dean could still breathe. Usually this far down--he didn’t want to think about it.

 

“Yeah. Surprisingly.” He laughed and met his eyes. He was smiling and the last of Dean’s darkness slipped away just like that. “How do you do that?”

 

“Do what?”

 

“Make it easier.”

 

“Must be my good looks.” Cas had moved over, their thighs pressed together, his warmth washed over Dean like the best kind of sunshine.

 

“Must be.” Dean agreed, he’d moved a hand up to cup the side of his neck, thumb pressed to his pulse point. He counted the beats, smiled as they sped up just the slightest bit. He wanted to make it faster.

 

“What are you thinking about?” Cas whispered, running his hand through Dean’s hair, tugging just enough to bring Dean in closer.

 

“That I want to figure out all the ways to make your heart race.” Dean admitted, running his mouth against the other man’s jaw, counting an extra heart beat against his thumb. Cas tilted his head back, opening up the space just below his ear where Dean had latched on. He sucked lightly, bringing the blood to surface before closing his teeth in a gentle nip. Cas’s moan was the stuff of wet dreams. He slid his arm around his waist and pulled. Cas didn’t need a second prompting. He climbed into Dean’s lap, one leg on either side of his thighs. Dean continued to work over the same patch of skin, only pulling away when he was sure he’d left a bruise. Cas’s heart was thrumming wildly against his thumb. “I like this one. It seems you like it too.”

 

“Pretty cocky all of a sudden.” Cas murmured. Dean chuckled into his neck, finding a new place to leave his mark. Cas groaned, pulled him back with a sharp twist of his fingers in Dean’s hair. “Stop that.”

 

“Don’t wanna.” Dean wanted to go back to Cas’s neck but he headed him off, crashing their mouths together instead. He bit his bottom lip, licked it, bit down again. “Kiss me.” Dean groaned, impatient.

 

“You’re not the boss of me.” Cas growled back. Dean could feel his smile and he surged forward, wanting to kiss the damn thing away. Cas only laughed, biting him again and using his grip on Dean’s hair to hold him off. He rolled his hips forward and Dean saw white. Cause yeah--that was Cas’s dick lined up so perfectly against his that even through the layers of their clothes it seared white hot pleasure straight into his gut. Cas leaned back just enough to lock their eyes as he rocked forward again and slowly dragged himself back.

 

“Fuck.” Dean’s hands fisted at his waist, holding on hard, feeling the muscles in his back and stomach bunch as he ground down on Dean’s lap. Dean chased his mouth again, more desperately now. “Cas.” He touched their foreheads together, briefly closing his eyes. “Please. Kiss me.”

 

So he did. Sort of. He licked into Dean’s open mouth, working their tongues together but not letting their lips meet. Dean tried so hard, but his hands were still in his hair and he kept his head angled back, only giving what he wanted to give and not letting Dean take anything. He let out a frustrated sound and pinched his sides.

 

“Kiss me.” He demanded again.

 

“Make me.” Cas laughed. And oh that was a mistake. Dean growled and bucked his hips upward, Cas dropped his forehead onto his, moaning at the rough slide of Dean’s erection against his. Dean used the moment to his advantage, put a hand in Cas hair and finally got their mouths together. Cas, the asshole, still tried to pull away, but Dean sat up straighter, trapped him between his body and the steering wheel and did just what he’d been told to do--made him kiss him.

 

The car filled with the wet smacking sounds of their battle for dominance and the rough slide of Cas’s jeans against Dean’s slacks as they continued to grind over one another. _Taste so good _.__ Dean meant to say it out loud, but it just kept running circle in his head, afraid that if he pulled away for even a moment, Cas was going to end the kiss and toy with him again. He ran his hands up Cas’s stomach and chest, liking the way the muscles moved under his touch. Very briefly he marveled at how much difference there was between doing the same thing with a woman, but only very briefly because Cas had stopped fighting him and was kissing back, pressing Dean into the seat, making the most amazing whimpering sounds in the back of his throat, and Dean hadn’t noticed when he’d let go of his hair, but he felt the air hitting his bare chest and realized Cas was undoing the buttons one by one.

 

When their lips parted Cas’s latched on to his collar bone, sucking hard and Dean intuited that he was leaving a similar bruise to the one he was sporting on his neck. He didn’t stop at one. He left another just above Dean’s nipple and then sucked the nipple itself into his mouth. Dean gasped, carded a hand through his dark hair. Cas looked up at him through his lashes, scraping his teeth against the pebbled flesh and then moving back up to kiss him again. Dean groped his ass, squeezed hard enough that he could just make out the cleft between his two plump cheeks and dig his fingers in enough to be between them as well. Cas moaned, sucked Dean’s tongue into his mouth, rolled his hips forward and drew out a shattered moan from Dean as well.

 

“Fuck, D.” Cas murmured, pressing his ass back against Dean’s exploring hands.

 

“Want to--I want to--” Cas must have been a mind reader, because without waiting for more, his hands were already opening his belt and fumbling with the button when a sharp wrap sounded on the driver side window. They jerked apart, staring wide eyed, recognizing their surroundings for the first time. “Oh my god.” Dean groaned, hiding his face in Cas’s neck as the other man rolled down the window.

 

“Uh, sorry to interrupt, amigos.” Dean recognized the amused voice of the man from the guard shack and wanted to die of embarrassment. “But we are emptying out, gotta lock up the gates pretty soon.”

 

“Of course, Andre. Sorry about that. We’ll head out.” Cas rolled the window back up and started to laugh. Dean still hadn’t come out of hiding so Cas petted the back of his head. “You ok to drive?”

 

“This isn’t funny, Castiel.” Dean hissed as Cas slid off his lap and settled into the seat beside him. Koda barked and Cas grinned at her.

 

“Looks like she’s on my side.” He laughed, closing his pants and belt back up. He flipped the visor down as Dean started the car and began to pull away, realizing they were the last car in the lot, the tail lights of the last of them fading around the corner ahead of them before he had pulled completely onto the roadway. “I can’t believe you gave me a hickey.” Cas mused.

 

“You gave me two.”

 

“Yours are in very discreet places. I on the other hand will probably have to wear a scarf to work tomorrow.” Dean grinned smugly and puffed his chest out. Cas rolled his eyes. “What, are you proud of yourself?”

 

“Extremely. Made you kiss me didn’t I?”

 

“Almost made me c--”

 

“Don’t. Don’t finish that sentence right now.” Dean said, putting a finger to Cas lips and focusing resolutely on the road ahead. “If you do I won’t be able to think straight.”

 

“Be a damn shame if you did.” Cas grinned and slid over on the seat until he was right up against Dean’s side.

 

“Ca-as.” Dean groaned, leaning his head back against the seat and squinting his eyes to keep the lines in view when Cas began rubbing his hand up and down his thigh.

 

“Ok, ok. Take me home Jeeves. Think about whether or not you’re coming inside on the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh! What did you think? Drop a comment, let me know ;)


	16. Just once if I had the Chance, the things I would do to You

Cas fiddled with the radio dial until he found an oldies station where Billie Holiday was crooning. Dean stole glances at him across the seat as he drove back toward his house. He admitted internally that he was driving irrationally slow, but he couldn’t seem to make himself push the needle higher than it was, enjoying the ride immensely. Driving had always been his most soothing pastime and being with Cas made it all the more so.

 

Cas caught him stealing glances and they both laughed. Dean turned his hand over in the middle of the seat between them, raising his brow in invitation. Cas accepted, resting their palms together and linking their fingers one by one. Billie faded and Carole King took her place.

 

“Tonight you’re mine completely. You give your love so sweetly” Dean murmured under his breath, focused on the smoothness of Cas’s skin under the thumb he was swiping gently across the back of his hand. “Tonight the light of love is in your eyes, but will you love me tomorrow.” Cas was closer on the seat, Dean felt their shoulders press together, felt Cas’s lips fleetingly on his neck. “Can I believe the magic in your sighs, will you still love me tomorrow.”

 

“Any other hidden talents?” Cas whispered when the song was over, mouth on his ear in a very distracting manner. Dean blushed and shrugged off the compliment. “I’m serious. You have a nice voice.”

 

“Just a hobby.” Dean maneuvered the Impala into Cas drive and put her in park, leaving the engine on idle. As soon as he turned to Cas, he kissed him. “Mmph.”

 

“I think I’m addicted to your lips. It’s a problem.” Cas said after a few moments had passed.

 

“Sounds like a good problem to have at least.” Dean murmured, sliding a hand into Cas’s hair and tugging him forward again. The kisses were close mouthed, mostly innocent, nothing compared to the steamy lip locks they’d shared at the drive in, but still--Dean thought they were perfect. He leaned his forehead against Cas’s and sighed. “I should go home.”

 

“Or you could stay.” Cas kissed his mouth, his jaw, nipped his ear.

 

“I have to be at work in like five hours.” Dean groaned, hand finding it’s way to the small of Cas’s back under his shirt.

 

“I’m in good with the boss, he won’t mind you being a little sluggish.” Cas teased, continuing to mouth at Dean’s earlobe. Dean shuddered when his tongue traced the shell of his ear. “Come inside. Just for a little bit.” Dean chuckled, sliding his hand farther up along Cas’s spine, dragging the shirt with it. Dean groaned as their mouths came together, Cas working his open with the teasing tip of his tongue. For several minutes the talking ceased and Dean didn’t worry about having to be up in the morning for work or even about the fact that essentially anyone could happen upon them, Cas partially in his lap, his shirt bunched around his armpits so that Dean could more easily run his hands--everywhere. He traced his fingers over each vertebrae in his spine, followed the lines of his broad shoulders around to his pecs, down his abs, dipped into his navel and stopped at those damning hip bones. “Dean…”

 

“Okay.” He heard himself saying. “Okay, I’ll come inside.” It was almost comical how fast Cas was across the car and out the door. Dean laughed softly watching as he opened the back door and roused Koda to follow him up the front path. As soon as Dean was inside the house, Cas closed the door and pushed him back into it, crowding himself close between Dean’s parted thighs too fast and too hard so that when his hips met Dean’s there was a painful zing as their crotches met. “Easy tiger.”

 

“Rawr.” Cas was moving fast, fingers popping buttons open, mouth kissing the newly revealed skin.

 

“Cas.” Dean groaned and gripped his shoulder. All the blood rushed out of his head and he felt dizzy. His mouth was on his neck, his collar bone, his nipple, lower. “Cas, come here.”

 

“What’s the matter?” Cas mumbled, back at his eye level as he tugged Dean’s shirt bottom out of his pants.

 

“Nothing, just--just--” Dean was barely breathing, his hands shook, his lips quivered. “I don’t--”

 

“Am I going to fast? Shit, I’m freaking you out.” Cas started to pull back, but Dean caught him with handfuls of his shirt and pulled him back.

 

“I haven’t done this in awhile. And aside from that I’ve never done this with--with a man. It’s new for me.”

 

“So basically what you’re saying is you’re a virgin.” A smile formed on Cas’s face and Dean groaned, thudding his head back against the door. “And I have to be gentle with you.”

 

“Cas.” He forgot what he was even trying to say as Cas wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him in close. He nuzzled his face into Dean’s neck and sighed softly.

 

“I’m playing. We don’t have to do anything tonight, Dean. This can go as far or as slow as you need it to go, okay? No pressure.” Dean put his own arms around Cas’s shoulders, one hand trailing up into his hair because he couldn’t seem to stop wanting to touch it. He could feel the other man’s heart beating steadily against his chest and just like that--his eyes grew misty. He felt safe. His arms tightened and Cas’s nuzzling started back up, accompanied by a little whimper that made Dean’s heart lurch.

 

“You’re so adorable.”

 

“I’ve been going for irresistible, but I’ll take it.” Cas’s lips tickled his neck and Dean hid his smile in his hair.

 

“I like you so much.” He didn’t know what made him say it, just knew that if he didn’t get the words out that he might explode. He could feel Cas’s answering smile and the giddiness overwhelming him made him drop his forehead onto Cas’s shoulder and bury is own face into the warmth of his neck. Cas chuckled, rubbing his hands up and down Dean’s back.

 

“I like you so much too. Hey, can you come up here for a second? I wanna kiss you now.”

 

Dean lifted his head and Cas did just that, tenderly at first and then deeper with more heat. His tongue moved over Dean’s in a rhythm that made him ache low in is belly. Cas’s hands slid down his back, over his ass, cupping firmly at the top of his thighs, and he lifted Dean off his feet. He yelped in surprise, grabbing onto his shoulders and tearing their mouths apart.

 

“You’re going to drop me.” He wrapped his right leg around Cas’s waist, scrambling to gain leverage.

 

“Won’t. Promise.” Cas assured him, leaning up to kiss Dean’s mouth, now a couple of inches higher than his. He pressed him back against the door and rocked his semi-hard cock into Dean’s.

 

“Cas…”

 

“Do you have to argue about everything?” Cas questioned, laughing softly, then kissed him before he could answer. Dean dug his fingernails into his shoulders, biting his tongue when it slipped into his mouth. Cas laughed into their kiss, but didn’t slow up, still steadily grinding their bodies together. Dean had no control over the noises he made as the embrace went on and when Cas sucked his tongue into his mouth and swirled his own around it, his head filled with images of him giving just as much attention to his cock and let out a mewling sound that had Cas responding in kind. “Like that, baby?”

 

“Mmm.” Was all Dean could manage. He’d been involved in too many sexual encounters to count and he could honestly say that kissing, while fun, had never been his favorite part. Like so many other things he was experiencing, with Cas it was different. He liked the way their mouths fit together, liked tasting and tracing the inside of Cas’s and how thoroughly he did the same. He loved that Cas was a biter, spending equal or even more time teasing Dean with his teeth as using his lips and tongue. And the dry humping--”You gotta stop doing that.”

 

“Doing what?”

 

“ _ _Tha-aat.__ ” Cas pressed him back into the door, lined himself up below Dean’s balls and thrust up hard. Dean made a ridiculous sound and bit down on Cas lip.

 

“Now why would I want to stop?”

 

“Cas, please.” He wasn’t positive what he was begging for. Just that Cas obviously enjoyed the sound of it. “Pleasepleaseplease.”

 

“Please what, baby?” Dean hated pet names. But Cas calling him baby--it went straight to his dick.

 

“I don’t know!” He didn’t, he was lost, he just wanted more.

 

“Don’t worry, I got you.” Cas got one arm up under his thighs so that he could bring a hand around between them, working on the front of Dean’s slacks, keeping their mouths fused together. Things got a little difficult as he tried to get his hand inside the opening, hitching Dean higher up against his chest, managing to bang his hip into the door knob. Dean grunted, but didn’t mind the pain so much as he minded the fact that he really wanted Cas to be touching him already.

 

“Thought you had me.” He teased, licking Cas’s swollen lips.

 

“Oh, but I do.” And yeah--that was his hand at the front of his boxer briefs, fingers twitching up the length of his cock through the fabric, which was embarrassingly wet with precum. He jacked him off slowly, the rough slide of the cotton on his sensitive skin caused him to hiss through his teeth. Cas worked his hand into the slit at the front of Dean’s underwear. His eyes rolled back into his head as those perfect fingers closed over his shaft.

 

“Fu-uck.” He choked, his hips stuttered forward, thrusting his cock up into Cas’s grasping fist. He slammed their mouths back together, needing to focus on something else, anything else, or he was going to cum and all of this was going to be over. Cas did not cooperate. He pulled back, watching Dean’s face with fascination.

 

“Damn, baby. You’re already close? Yeah, look at you, you’re so gone.”

 

“Cas…” Dean whimpered, head thudding back against the door. Cas’s hand moved around his cock, briefly and then pulled away. Dean made a high pitched keening sound, hips still moving even though that perfect touch was gone. “Nooooo.”

 

“Spit.” Dean opened his eyes enough to find Cas’s hand held just near his mouth. Cas raised an eyebrow so he rolled his tongue around in his mouth to gather enough saliva to spit into the proffered palm. Cas followed suit, and it shouldn’t have been so damn sexy to see their spit mingling their in Cas’s hand, but Dean shuddered because he knew why…and seconds later, cool air rushed over his dick when Cas tugged him free of his underwear and wrapped that deliciously wet hand back around the base and began to stroke him in earnest. It was awkward because of their position and Cas’s hand was moving erratically, pressure too much and not enough alternately, but goddamn--the pad of Cas’s thumb rubbed over his leaking head, dragging the precum down the length of his dick on the down stroke. Heat pooled low in his belly, and spread into the base of his cock and Dean knew it was all over.

 

“Cas, I’m not--I can’t--” He couldn’t get the words out. Cas kissed him hard and sloppy.

 

“Come on, baby. Come on, good boy.” Cas rocked forward, jutting his erection beneath Dean’s ass, pinning him to the door so that he could move his other hand around to the front. He dragged his shirt up and rubbed the head of Dean’s cock over his abs, precum beading along the slopes and ridges there and he was a goner.

 

“Fuck, Cas! I--I’m--” Dean’s orgasm slammed into him with so much strength that for a brief moment he was going to black out and miss it all. Cas stroked him through it, murmuring praises as cum spurted from Dean’s cock, coating his stomach and fingers. He sped up, focusing on working over the swollen head of the cock in his hand. Dean was actively trying to get away then, oversensitive and still coming down from his climax. Cas kissed him hard and then leaned their foreheads together.

 

“How long until you can get it back up?” He teased, nibbling Dean’s lip. “Wanna get my mouth on you.”

 

“Fuck, yeah?”

 

“Yeah. Yes.”

 

“So do it.” Dean demanded, a fresh wave of desire already pooling in his core. Cas kissed him hard, fingers twitching at the head of his cock, pinching. Dean hissed again. “Fucking asshole.”

 

Cas laughed and turned away from the door, carrying him across the living room. They almost made it to the couch when the light clicked on and Claire flew in from the stairs, screaming like a banshee and wielding a baseball bat. Cas was so startled that his grip slipped and Dean plummeted, clawing at his shirt in an attempt to stay upright, failing miserably and landing in a heap at his feet, his knee hit the hardwood floor with a pop and a crunch.

 

“Fuck me, son of a bitch.” He growled, rolling onto his back and grasping for his leg. White hot pins and needle pain stabbed into the scar tissue of his amputation and he wanted the damn leg off, but couldn’t move up from his back just yet.

 

“For god’s sake!” Claire yelled, bat clattering to the floor. “I thought you were an intruder! Jesus, dad, you have a room!”

 

“It’s past your bedtime!” Cas replied lamely, scrambling to kneel next to Dean, who continued to make pathetic little noises of discomfort. “You shouldn’t even be up.”

 

“Well, if my adult father wasn’t dry humping his ridiculously loud boyfriend in the living room maybe I wouldn’t be!” She yelled back as she stomped back up the stairs.

 

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

 

“Told you you’d drop me.” Dean tried to sound teasing, but the words were forced through clenched teeth. 

 

“Are you hurt?” Cas’s hand fell on top of his where it was clutching his knee and applied more pressure. Dean forced himself to expel his held breath and smiled tightly.

 

“Just my pride. Can you help me up?”

 

“Of course!” Cas got to his feet and grasped Dean under his arms, lifting him with surprising ease. He had to lean on Cas more than he’d have liked, but Cas took his weight without complaint, would have probably carried him if Dean would allow it, and helped him limp to the couch. He went to his knees and Dean’s feet, eyes filled with concern.

 

“What can I do?” He asked nervously, worrying his lower lip with his teeth. Dean thought about playing tough to ease his worry, but he was old enough to realize the idiocy in that move.

 

“I could use some ice.” He admitted. Cas jumped to his feet and hurried toward he kitchen. When he was gone, dean rolled back the leg of his slacks and, with only a brief moment of hesitation, pressed the latch at the ankle of his prosthetic to release the pin that held it in place. He peeled off the inner sleeve and massaged the cramping stub. Koda, who had been laying in the recliner the whole time, jumped onto the couch next to him and dropped her head in his lap. This brought to light that his pants were still open, and although he was in no danger of flashing any wayward teens that happened back in, as his libido had crashed along with his pride on the floor back there, he hurriedly tucked himself securely back in his pants and zipped up. Cas came back in and handed him a ziploc bag wrapped in a hand towel. Dean rested it on his knee.

 

“Well--I’m gonna guess its safe to say the mood has cooled significantly.” Cas joked, sitting as close to him as he could with Koda between them. His gaze flickered briefly to Dean’s exposed thigh, tracing the scars there for the first time close up and then looked away, not because he thought it was disgusting, but because he seemed eager to look back at Dean’s face, search it for any signs that he was hurting more than his now easy grin let on.

 

“I don’t think that’s quite the type of pain either of us had in mind when we discussed that particular turn on of yours.” Dean offered in way of answering.

 

“Not quite.” Cas sank back into the couch and sighed heavily. “It was going so well.”

 

Dean leaned across Koda and offered his mouth with an exaggerated pucker Cas grinned and kissed him several times in a row.

 

“Next time just take me to your room okay?”

 

“Okay.” Cas laughed. Dean stuck around for awhile longer, alternately icon and massaging his leg. They shared sweet kisses, and whispered stupid things about ‘next time’. After he snapped his prosthetic back in place, Cas walked him to the door and Dean pulled him in to his arms for hug, leaving a kiss on his shoulder, his temple, his hair. Cas sighed happily and kissed the tip of his nose in return. “Let me know you get home safe.”

 

“Sure, Cas. Goodnight.” He was having trouble leaving, backing slowly toward the steps, eyes on the playful smile Cas was giving him.

 

“Goodnight, Dean.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Monday morning started well enough. He was tired and his bad knee was killing him from the fall last night, but he was honestly happier than he’d been in a long time. He hummed his way through the first part of his morning, wiping windows, emptying trash cans, and restocking toilet paper rolls with a spring in his step. It wasn’t until first bell that he realized he had vastly underestimated his new found celebrity.

 

Students clapped as they passed him in the hall, several slapped him on the back with a ‘loved your work’, a few even stopped him for a selfie. Dean finally slipped out of the hallway, hiding in his usual spot under the stairs nearest the cafeteria. He wasn’t alone for long.

 

“Sup, Deano.” Claire slipped into the small space beside him and lounged up against the wall. She was twisting strands of hair near her face into a braid and smiling at him in a way that was disconcertingly akin to her father’s mischievous grin.

 

“If it isn’t bad timing girl.” He replied dryly. She pressed her fingers to her dimples and and twisted them like she was cranking her smile up.

 

“Trust me, no one was more upset about that than me.”

 

“Beg to differ.” Dean sighed, imagination flickering over how his night would have gone had she stayed in her room.

 

“Ew. Please stop looking like that while thinking about my dad ok?”

 

“Sorry, kid.” He laughed, rubbing his neck.

 

“So, let’s make this quick cause if I’m late to second period Parker’s going to write me up and if I get detention again dad’s going to bite my head off.” She straightened up to her full height and pointed her fingers sternly in his face. “Break his heart, I’ll break your face.”

 

“Yeah, okay, Rocky.” Dean snorted, crossing his arms over his chest, thoroughly unimpressed.

 

“I’ve been practicing Jiu Jitsu since I was five. It’s not about size, it’s about skill.” She cracked her knuckles and Dean had to laugh. She grinned at him toothily. She had Cas’s eyes. Dean grinned back. “So let me guess…he did the Chinese at the drive-in thing right?” Dean’s mouth fell open and a sick feeling had his stomach cramping up. Okay, so he wasn’t special, Cas did that whole spiel for all his dates? Awesome. That was awesome. “Don’t get that mopey look on your face, it’s not his move or whatever.”

 

“Then how’d you guess?”

 

“Because I can tell he likes you.” She shrugged, “The drive in is dad’s place to like--figure stuff out. He’s been hung up on you for long enough that he was just about ready to figure you out.”

 

“Hung up on me, hmm?”

 

“After you left he made me come downstairs for pancakes and bacon. At one in the morning. So he could gush about you. Yeah--he’s in to it.” She rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand to check his watch. “I gotta go, but like I said--don’t fuck around with his feelings. He doesn’t do this often, be gentle.” She frowned, stuck her tongue out like she was disgusted. “With his feelings. Be gentle with his feelings.”

 

“Go to class, Claire. And don’t say fuck--you’re like twelve.”

 

“Whatever, old man.” She was a fan of the eye rolling. Dean watched her walking away with a fond smile. “Hey, Tran, wait up!” She called, leaping onto the back of an Asian kid who frankly didn’t look strong enough to stay on his feet with her added weight.

 

“You shouldn’t look at the students that way, Seacrest.” Meg fell into step with him as he slipped from his hiding spot and made his way up the emptying hallway.

 

“Meg. Always a nightmare.” He offered, deciding that not even she could ruin his good mood today.

 

“Tell me about it. I’ve been hearing about you all damn morning.” Dean ducked his head at her admission, beaming. That made two people Cas had been talking about him with. Maybe he was special after all. “Oh, Jesus. Clarence had that same dopey look on his face when I left him a minute ago. In his office…all by his lonesome.”

 

He took the hint without even thinking about it, finding himself standing at the hallway door that lead to Cas office. He knocked softly, nervous butterflies taking up residence in his stomach. Cas appeared in the doorway and Dean’s breath left him. He looked messy in the best way. It looked like he’d been running his hands through his hair, leaving it sticking out everywhere, his clothes had that rumpled look of a man who didn’t have time to take care of himself--and his tie was somehow on backwards. Dean smiled fondly.

 

“Hello, Dean. Come in.” Cas stepped back barely enough to allow him to pass through the door, forcing his back to brush against Cas’s front. The door closed behind him and Dean chuckled when Cas pounced on him and shoved his face into his neck, nuzzling in close.

 

“Hey, there.” He said softly, wrapping him in his arms and tugging him closer. He was thankful Cas had made the first move because he hadn’t been sure how he should act. Last night had been great, but they were at work and he hadn’t wanted to overstep. “Missed you for coffee this morning.”

 

“Missed you.” Cas mumbled back, not bothering to remove himself from Dean’s neck. “Smell good.” He shifted enough to shove his hands and arms into Dean’s flannel. “So warm.”

 

“You’re a child.” Dean teased, kissing his ear, the only bit of skin he could reach as a side effect of his burrowing tendencies.

 

“Can’t help you’re so snuggly.” He held tighter for a few moments longer and then pulled back with a sigh. He looked tired. Dean told him as such and he rubbed a hand over his face. “Exhausted. I didn’t get very much sleep and I’ve been in meetings all morning, only just got in.”

 

“Well, I won’t keep you. Just wanted to say hi.”

 

“No, stay!” Cas demanded, grabbing his hands and moving in close to him. He linked their fingers together and scrunched his nose up. “I’ll stop complaining.”

 

“I don’t mind the complaining.” Dean assured him. For some reason he really wanted to lick Cas’s nose--so he did. Afterward he blushed and dropped his forehead onto his laugh twitching shoulder.

 

“Thanks for that.” Cas teased him.

 

“Don’t mention it.”

 

“If you’re done hiding--I’d like to kiss you now.”

 

“Okay.” He straitened, offering his mouth without a moments hesitation. He’d been thinking of their next kiss since he’d left him the night before. Cas laughed and pressed their lips together. Dean wondered if being with Cas had regressed him from forty to seventeen because it didn’t take long at all for the embrace to go from a sweet ‘good morning’ to a heated ‘I’m not stopping until you can’t breathe’. Cas was on board, using their linked fingers to pin Dean’s hands behind his back and crowd him up against his desk.

 

“You drive me crazy. Did you know that?” Cas’s voice was low and sexy, rumbling around and into Dean’s mouth as the kiss continued. His only affirmative was licking into Cas’s mouth, straining against the hold on his hands because he wanted to touch him. “Nuh uh. If you get your hands on me this is going to go sideways very quickly.”

 

“You suck.” Dean grumbled, stealing another kiss.

 

“Haven’t yet, but I’d like to.”

 

“You trying to kill me, Novak?” A knock sounded on the door leading in from the lobby and the two men separated quickly. Hannah stuck her head in, looked sheepish upon finding Dean.

 

“Sorry to interrupt, Castiel.” She said with a smile that had Dean thinking to himself that she’d seen the stupid video and had probably made an assumption about what the two of them had been doing based on his guilty expression and Cas’s swollen lips. “You’re appointment arrived a little early.”

 

“Sure, Hannah, I’ll be right with him.” When the door was closed, he turned back to Dean. “Doing anything after work?”

 

“Just you.” Dean replied brazenly. Cas dropped his head back and laughed, exposing his neck and lust punched through Dean as he noticed for the first time the hickey he’d left below Cas’s ear. He groaned and closed his eyes. “That’s the best fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

 

Cas touched his neck and smirked. “Maybe you can leave a few more later on. You gotta go though cause if you keep looking at me like that…”

 

“I’m going. See you later?”

 

“Later, baby.” Cas replied, eyes twinkling knowingly, having realized the way using that word affected Dean.

 

“I’m stabbing you in my mind.” Dean called over his shoulder.

 

Cas had followed him to the door and leaned out to hiss as quietly as possible, “Is it with your dick? Cause--I can get behind that. Or something.”

 

“Oh my god!”

 

“Made you blush!” Cas’s laughter faded as he shut his office door. Dean was pretty sure that Cas was going to be the death of him in one way or another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've messed with this chapter a hundred times and never could feel great about it...hope you guys like it anyway :)


	17. I think I might've inhaled you, You've gotten in my Bloodstream

****C: The adults I deal with are worse than the kids, swear to Chuck** **

****D: Same…rough afternoon?** **

****C: Yes :( BOT called me in for a meeting, I** ** ****’m heading out now.** **

****D: BOT?** **

****C: Board of Trustees. Snotty people who hold the purse strings.** **

****C: They have “concerns”. Guess you’re not doing me later after all ;P** **

****D: Travesty!** **

****C: Yes, I know. Call you later? xx** **

****D: Sure** **

****

Dean finished locking up around four, waved goodbye to a few teachers standing near the truck and pulled out of the lot. Since Cas had been forced to cancel, he’d called the tractor supply store and asked them to get a load of horse feed and oats ready for pickup. He helped load everything into the truck bed. As he stood at the register waiting to be rung up, he spotted a display of flowers nearby. He pointed them out to the cashier.

 

“You any good with plants?”

 

“Pretty good.” She flipped her ponytail, possibly in pride Dean couldn’t be sure, and smiled widely. “You looking to plant?”

 

“I have a little space around my porch. Think you could pick out something that doesn’t require much outside of water and sun?”

 

“No problem, Mr. Winchester.” She added an assortment of flowers to his ticket and spoke quietly to herself as she filled a small float with brightly colored blooms. “These are all very complimentary together and they don’t require a whole lot of tending.”

 

“Just stick em in willy nilly?” He joked, rather lamely he admitted, but she laughed anyway, flipping her ponytail around again.

 

“Yep, just plunk ‘em in and cover ‘em up.”

 

“Thank-you, Shelly.” He unloaded the flowers into the cab since the back was overloaded with feed bags and started the drive home. He barely made it out of the parking lot before he had to dig his ringing phone from his pocket. “Sammy! What’s up?”

 

“My last case was postponed and I thought we could take the boat out? You busy?” Dean looked over at the flowers, wondering if it were possible to kill them mere minutes after purchase. Whatever, he could leave the windows down.

 

“Yeah, man, sounds good.”

 

“Cool. Swing by the house, I gotta get out of this monkey suit first.”

 

 

 

An hour later, the two floated in the aluminum motor boat out on the lake, poles in hand, cooler of beer stocked and sitting open between their seats. The sun had drifted low in the sky and a cool breeze made the lingering Autumn heat bearable. Dean flicked his line out and sank lower in his chair with a sigh.

 

“We don’t do this enough.” He remarked, looking over his shoulder to find Sam nodding.

 

“Never have the time. Things are crazy at the office, even crazier at home. Ruthie never sleeps man, we’re going crazy.” Sam had been spoiled by his first two babies, Dean knew. Grace and Michael had been freaks of nature, sleeping through the night other than feeding times straight from the womb. Grace continued to be the most mature kid Dean had ever encountered and although Michael was starting to live up to the phrase ‘terrible twos’ he still wasn’t all that bad.

 

“And Jess let you leave her alone?” Dean peeled the top off two bottles and passed one over to Sam who took it with a grin.

 

“Her parents actually took the kids for a few hours today and she called to say I was banished from the house.” Sam shrugged, reeling in and throwing his line back out. “Which was cool with me. I want to hear about your date.”

 

“Eh--it was a date. What is there to hear?” Dean dipped a finger into the collar of his shirt, clawing at his clavicle.

 

“Are you blushing?” Sam demanded, grabbing his brother’s shoulder and forcing him around to gawk at his heat stained face.

 

“What? No. Shut up!”

 

“Dude, you’re a fucking tomato! Did you put out or something?”

 

“You’re scaring the fish. Stop pulling at me like that.” Dean slapped Sam’s hand away with a glare.

 

“You did. You totally put out.” Sam had never looked more thrilled in his life. Dean almost put his fishing pole down just so he could shove him out of the boat.

 

“Are you twelve? Leave me alone.”

 

“Tell me about the date!”

 

“I don’t know, Sam! It was just a date.” Dean drained the rest of his beer and shrugged. “We had bad Chinese and watched a movie and talked about relationships.”

 

“What movie?” Sam asked, too casually to be innocent. Damn it, how did he know?!

 

“Ugh, I don’t actually know, okay.”

 

“Nice.” Sam held his fist out in that really juvenile way that indicates approval. Dean stared at him blankly.

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Oh, come on!” Sam wiggled his closed fist until Dean gave up with a sigh and bumped their knuckles together, he almost fought off his smile, but if Sam were anything it would be perceptive. He laughed and fist pumped. “Yes! Tell me everything.”

 

“You are such a girl.” But Dean had decided that he was finished resisting. So he told Sam everything, because Sam was his best friend and it felt nice to finally have good news to share with him. He wrapped up with the part about Claire running in to brain them to death and Sam laughed so hard he shot beer out of his nose. Dean grinned. “Right?”

 

“Hell of a date, bro.”

 

“Yeah.” He didn’t sound at all dreamy. Not in the slightest. Except…why else would Sam be laughing again. “Fuck you!”

 

“I’m sorry! I just--that was priceless. Like the prince found the pea in your mattress or something.” Dean punched his arm, Sam only shook his head with a laugh. “So it’s safe to say you’ll be going out again?”

 

As if on cue, Dean’s phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out, breaking out into a ridiculous smile. He tried to turn away so that he couldn’t see Sam leering at him.

 

“Hey, Cas.” Shit, his voice was doing that weird breathy thing again. He cleared his throat, elbowing Sam in the face to stop him from crawling down his neck. “Stop huffing in my ear.” He mumbled to the side.

 

“Sorry, I was being chased.” Cas sounded a little embarrassed and Dean slapped a hand over his face.

 

“No! Not you, I was talking to Sam.” He frowned, “Did you say chased?”

 

“Oh! Ok, and yeah! This fucking rabid squirrel was--”

 

“You were being chased by a squirrel?”

 

“Don’t laugh!” Cas grumped petulantly. Dean tried not to, but ended up snorting through his nose. “It was a very mean squirrel. I pelted me with sticks.”

 

“Careful, Cas, he’ll bring a gang of his buddies to shank your tires.”

 

“You’re an asshole.” Dean could tell he was smiling though. His foot shot out, aimed at Sam’s face, but he aborted miming a blow job and grabbed his ankle. Dean struggled to escape his hold, dropped his fishing pole, and nearly fell out of his seat. “What’s going on over there?”

 

“My brother is a five year old.” Dean growled, Sam snickered.

 

“Ah, well tell him I said hi. I won’t keep you.”

 

“You can keep me.” Dean offered adamantly. He realized how it sounded after and was deeply grateful he couldn’t see the heat staining his cheeks. He needed to get a handle on the blushing thing. Sam was pointing and laughing. __Five year old,__ Dean mouthed at him. “I mean…we can talk.”

 

Cas’s chuckled warmly. “No, no. You go ahead, you can text me later. I’ll be around.”

 

“Ok. Later, Cas.”

 

“Goodbye, Dean.” If asked--he was going to deny the shudder that ran through him at the way Cas said his name. He couldn’t deny it to Sam though, who was currently doubled over in laughter.

 

“What did I do to deserve this?” Dean asked, face turned up toward the sky. Eventually the teasing gave way to quiet fishing and then Sam turned to Dean with a more serious expression.

 

“So, I talked to Bobby today.”

 

“How--uh, how is he?” Dean held his breath, waited for the reply.

 

“Good, he’s good. He asked about you.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“They want you to come to thanksgiving.” Dean sighed, rubbed a hand over his face. __They.__ “I said I’d talk to you about it.”

 

Dean loved Bobby, he’d been more of a father to him in his later years than his own father had been. Taught him how to be a good soldier and more importantly how to be a good man. It had been almost sixteen months since the last time he’d seen him though. Because Bobby wasn’t just Bobby these days--no, it was Bobby…and Ellen. Ellen Harvelle. Mother of his dead fiance.

 

He hadn’t seen her since--before. He was blown apart and bed ridden for Jo’s funeral and after that, he’d refused to see her, unable to face her or what she might have to say to him. He had been ashamed of himself for surviving then. And maybe he even still felt that way. He’d skipped Thanksgiving two years in a row because he couldn’t face her.

 

“I don’t know, Sam.” Dean admitted quietly. Looking out over the lake, slowly dragging his line back in.

 

“They miss you.” Sam said, touching Dean’s shoulder. Dean’s throat clogged, he nodded.

 

“I’ll--I’m not promising.”

 

“But you’ll think about it?” Sam asked hopefully. “You have a few weeks so..please just do that?”

 

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” Dean never could say no to Sam. His little brother grinned, clapped him once on the back, and reeled his own line in.

 

“Cool. So--I’m starving. Want to head back? I think Jess is making meatloaf and potatoes tonight.

 

 

 

 

 

****D: Did the squirrel follow you home?** **

****C: It was a close call** **

****C: Evasive maneuvers were required** **

****C: But I finally lost him** **

****D: XD** **

****D: So I’m having dinner with the cutest chick ever** **

****C: ……..** **

****D:****

****C: oh my god.** **

****C: stop** **

****C: no seriously please stop** **

****D: What?!?** **

****D: Does this bottle make my bicep look fat???** **

****C: You’re such an idiot xx** **

****C:****

****C: do these sweatpants make my boner look fat?** **

****D: noooooooo** **

****D: You can’t do this to me** **

****D: I’m holding a baby for fucks sake** **

****D: you bastard!** **

****C: Please tell me you’re blushing ;)** **

****C: *droooooools** **

****D: I’m sweating** **

****D: what are you doing to me** **

****C: I know what I want to be doing to you…** **

****D: Oh yeah?? Tell me…** **

****

****

“Ok, enough!” Jess burst with a demanding expression on her face. “What are you over there grinning at?”

 

“Nothing.” Dean had been biting his lip to tamp down his smile ever since they had finished dinner and he’d been sent to the living room to feed Ruthie while Sam and Jess got the other kids in to bed, but Cas’s last comment had wrung a little noise of wistfulness out of him. “Just…joke of the day stuff.”

 

Sam had snuck up behind him and snatched his phone out of his hand. If Dean hadn’t been holding Ruth he may have dove over the back of the couch and fought him for it.

 

“Dammit, Sam!”

 

“Dude…” Sam danced over to Jess and shoved the phone in her face. She gave a low whistle and grinned at Dean.

 

“Damn.”

 

“Give it back you guys!” Dean whined, jostling Ruth enough that she made a face in her sleep and her lower lip trembled. Dean rocked her gently, still glaring at his brother and sister in law. “I hate ya’ll.”

 

“I mean--can we work out a share plan? Can I have him every other weekend?” Jess teased, studying the picture Cas had sent. Sam clutched his chest and slithered lower in his seat.

 

“You wound me, woman.”

 

“Hush. I’ve given you three babies. You’re not hurting for sex.” Dean rolled his eyes at the pair of them. Dean’s phone buzzed and Jess grinned widely as she read the text. “Oh my.”

 

“Can I have him every other weekend?” Sam said, mouth hanging open. Dean really wanted to read that damn text. “I want to slowly trace my--”

 

“What are you doing?” Dean was seriously regretting his life choices. Not drowning Sam at birth for instance… “Don’t fucking dare.”

 

“Lips over yours. Not just your lips…your neck.” Jess joined in with a grin

 

“God damn it.”

 

“Down to your chest.” Sam supplied.

 

“Your stomach.” Jess said, grabbing Sam’s hand and clutching it to her chest.

 

“Your cock.”

 

“Please don’t.” Dean groaned, throwing an arm over his face, whole body hot with mortification over the two idiots he called family.

 

“I know you want to feel my mouth on you…around you.” Jess whispered breathlessly. “But first I’ll kiss it. Over and over and over.”

 

“Until you beg me for more.” Sam gasped dramatically.

 

“Sam didn’t get this brazen until at least date four. You move fast, big brother.” Jess said laughing as she got to her feet and brought Dean his phone back. “I can’t read anymore or things are going to get awkward.”

 

“Like you haven’t already taken it there.” Dean mumbled, he swapped the baby for his phone and then got to his feet. “I’m heading out. Thanks for dinner. And ruining what was a very promising conversation.”

 

“Oh please. You’re definitely finishing that as soon as you get home. Don’t even lie.” Jess leaned up on tip toe and kissed his cheek.

 

Sam walked him to the door, giving him a quick hug goodbye. “Hey, not to dampen the mood, but uh--think about Thanksgiving okay? And call them. I mean it.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean waved him off like it was no big deal, though he knew that it was. It was just going to take him some time.

 

“I know what you’re thinking.” Sam said with a frown. “But it’s been long enough. Come on, man.”

 

“I will, Sam.” Dean meant it, he did. 

 

 

****C: Too much? x** **

****D: Not at all! I was dealing with my really overbearing family.** **

****C: Uh oh, all good?** **

****D: You don’t even want to know o.O** **

****D: But I’m home now…** **

****D: Up to much?** **

****C: Just laying in bed, Dean** **

****

****

Dean had driven home in silence, not even bothering to turn the radio on. He thought about what Sam had said, wondered if he was going to be able to make it to Thanksgiving that year. He hoped so--he missed his family. He’d backed the truck into the barn with no desire to unload it yet, and walked back up to house with his mind still buzzing. He let Koda outside to do her business. A note from Charlie was taped to the fridge saying she had gone out and would be home later, she had a surprise and couldn’t wait to tell him.

 

His phone had drawn him out of his own head and he’d gone to his room with a smile on his face when he saw that it was Cas. He fell in to bed, Koda sprawled at his feet, as he and Cas texted back and forth. His stomach did nervous somersaults and he lay his hand on top of it, rubbing slowly up and down in anticipation.

 

 

****D: Still wearing those sweats?** **

****C: They felt more at home in the floor…** **

****D: Hmm…** **

****C: Hmmmm…** **

****C:You should definitely get more comfortable yourself** **

****D: You telling me to take my pants off, Cas?** **

****C: That’s what I’m telling you, Dean.** **

****

****

Dean worked the button of jeans open and shimmied out of them. He kicked them off the bed, and also did away with his shirt and prosthetic before laying back down. He felt weird laying there naked so he kicked around until he was partially under the covers. Koda sighed exasperatedly and jumped off the bed to lay in her pallet over by the closet.

 

“Sorry.” Dean mumbled.

 

 

****C: How are we doing?** **

****D: God, you sound like my therapist** **

****D: Shit, forget I said that** **

****D: Uggghhh** **

****C: Dean…** **

****D: Yep** **

****C: Tell me what’s happening with you** **

****D: My heart is beating really fast** **

****C: How come…** **

****D: Reasons…** **

****C: Give me one** **

****D: I’ve never done is before** **

****

****

Dean chewed nervously on his lip. It was taking Cas an unreasonably long time to answer and he wondered if he’d put him to sleep with his less than enthralling sex talk skills. His hand felt clammy and gross on his own skin and he wiped it off on the sheets with sigh. He sucked so bad. He rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in his pillow, peaked out to check his phone when it finally buzzed.

 

****C: I’m your first?** **

****D: In all the ways** **

****C: You should be here…** **

****

Dean groaned, briefly hiding his face again. Cas had sent him a photo, possibly the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. He’d taken it at an angle up above his head so that most of his body was in the frame. He was naked, naked, body supple and taut, hand wrapped around and obscuring the base of his cock, the head extending up and out of the shot. Dean’s mouth went dry, all he could think was __big.__

 

****C: You’re taking an awful long time to reply.** **

****D: Kinda hard** **

****D: with the one hand** **

****

He fumbled as the phone started to ring, dropping it briefly and cursing when he couldn’t get his hands back on it. Finally he answered breathlessly.

 

“H-hey.”

 

“Just the one hand hmm?” Cas’s voice was lower than usual, it’s effect on Dean nothing short of torture. He groaned into his pillow.

 

“Y-yeah. Just the one.” He rolled onto his back, clutching the phone as if it were his lifeline, free hand roaming down over his stomach, dipping below where the sheet rode low on his hips, but not quite reaching for his rapidly hardening cock.

 

“Other one up to anything special?””

 

“S-suduko?” Cas let out a soft burst of surprised laughter.

 

“Nice.”

 

“Sorry. I’m not--I’m not very good at this.”

 

“You’re doing fine. Suduko aside.” Dean could make out the slide of Cas’s body against his covers as he shifted in bed and he sucked in a breath, thinking first of the picture in his inbox, and then of Cas naked rolling around in bed. “Hmm..that sounded promising. What are you thinking about?”

 

“You.” Dean whispered, worrying his lip with his teeth, brushing his fingers feather light along the line of his hips and down again. “Specifically I was thinking about you in my bed. I have um, yellow sheets and I was thinking about you rolling in them.” He felt pretty stupid. He didn’t think it was sexy to describe one’s sheets, but it just came out and he wasn’t sure what else to say anyway.

 

“I wish I were doing that right now.” Cas was so good at this, his voice did things to Dean that he couldn’t even begin to describe. He dropped his hand lower until he felt the soft thatch of hair he hadn’t bothered to tend to in--well long enough. “Are you rolling with me in this fantasy? Or just watching?”

 

“Watching.” Dean choked. “Wanna see you touch yourself. L-like your picture.”

 

“Just like I’m doing now.” Cas murmured easily. “Feels good, Dean.” He moaned as if to emphasis the point and Dean licked his lips, still teasing himself, tips of his fingers trailing lower. It shouldn’t be scary, but it was a little. Sure he talked porn with Charlie, and sometimes he even spread out on the couch with his lap top and a bag of Doritos and watched the tiny animated Asian chicks take monster’s cocks and tentacles because he liked the dull ache that formed in his gut at the end of it, but in actuality Dean rarely touched himself, and when he did it was a quick means of release that was washed down the shower drain. This was different, more involved. “Think you could be persuaded to give up the Suduko for a little bit?”

 

“Yeah. I wasn’t that invested anyway.” Dean laughed softly. He hooked one finger around his cock, slid it down the length of his shaft and back up. “I’m not sure how to do this?”

 

“Touch yourself?” Cas teased. “Just grab and rub, Dean.”

 

“Thanks, dick.”

 

“Don’t mention it.”

 

Dean hesitated before continuing. “Are you completely turned off now?”

 

“Not at all. You have a very nice voice. You could probably read Revelations and I’d still get off.” Dean choked on a laugh.

 

“Revelations huh? That’s some scary shit.” He was stalling. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to keep going--he just didn’t want to make an idiot of himself. “Cas?”

 

“Yes, Dean?”

 

“Can--can you tell me what I’m supposed to do?” He turned his face into the pillow and groaned. “I feel really pathetic.”

 

“You’re fine, baby.” One little word was all it took for Dean to jump ship and fully submerse himself in the experience. He wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked slowly, expelling a little sigh. “You don’t even have to say anything. I just want to hear you. You make the best noises when you’re getting off. Yeah, just like that one.” Dean hadn’t realized he’d even made any noises, but he wasn’t going to argue that he was pretty vocal in bed. He brought his hand up to lick his palm, then wrapped it back around himself, the wet slide drawing another groan out of him. “You sound so good. Are you touching yourself?”

 

“Mmhmm.”

 

“Yeah? Fuck, baby, you felt so good in my hand last night. You have such a thick cock…wanted so badly to stretch my mouth around it.” Dean liked the thought of Cas’s dark head between his thighs, imagined that he’d give head the way he kissed--enthusiastic and just on the good side of sloppy. “I’d have to work at it, but I could probably fit it all inside--get your head at the back of my throat.”

 

“Fuck, Cas, yeah. Want that so much.”

 

“Bet you’d get all impatient and thrusty, hmm? Make me choke on you.” Dean whined into the phone, hips doing exactly the thrusty thing Cas was talking about. “Yeah, you definitely would. Get your hands in my hair and hold me still while you fucked my mouth.”

 

“Mmm. Mmhmm.” He rutted greedily into his hand, precum leaking out of his slit and slicking him up even more, the wet strokes coupling with his harsh pants and turning the room into a parallel of every porno he’d ever seen. “But come on--we both know it wouldn’t be like that.”

 

“What would it be like then?”

 

“I’d get my hands in your hair alright, but I’d use it to move your mouth on me. Pull you on and off my cock--fill your mouth up until your lips are pressed against my balls, keep you there, your throat working to push me out, making those wet little choking sounds. Mmmmm.” Yeah--he was going to come if he didn’t stop picturing that scenario. He stalled his hand on the base of his dick and squeezed hard, whined at the pressure.

 

“Thought you said you weren’t any good at this.” Cas panted at him and Dean chuckled softly.

 

“You’ve inspired me.”

 

“Keep going…”

 

“Want to make your eyes water, your mouth water. Want to see that deep down viscid drool leaking out around your lips, get everything wet and sloppy.”

 

“Goddamn.” Dean’s toes curled in reaction to the way Cas sounded just then. He’d put money on the fact that he wouldn’t sound any better on his dick--or well--

 

“Hey, Cas?”

 

“Yeeees…”

 

“Do you--w-would I be--” His bashfulness made a vicious comeback, stuttering over the curiosity and sticking the words in his throat. He groaned, hand coming up out of instinct to rub over his face, dick slick and sweat getting all over and making him wince. _Nut up, Winchester_ _._  “Top or bottom?”

 

“Ah.” Cas murmured steadily in his ear. “I prefer topping, but I’m not adverse to your dick in my ass.”

 

“Fuck.” Dean whimpered, hand back on his cock, holding more tightly, moving faster. “That’s--that’s good.”

 

“I know you’ve never been with a man before, but what about your female partners? Or yourself…do you ever __play__ with yourself there, Dean?”

 

“I-I I’ve never, n-never…”

 

“Would you?” Cas prompted, making his breath catch with the neediness in his voice, and then for another reason entirely as he tried to imagine Cas’s cock or even his fingers _there_ _._ “Would you do that for me?”

 

“N-now?”

 

“Only if you want, baby.” That word again--like he knew Dean was ninety percent more likely to comply with what he wanted if he used it. Dean nodded, belatedly realized that Cas couldn’t actually __see__ him.

 

“I-I’ll try. Will--could you help me?”

 

“ _ _Yes.__ ”

 

“Tell me what to do.” Dean whispered, voice timorous, hands shaking as he switched the phone over to speaker and set it on his chest.

 

“Get your legs open. Can you reach your hole like that?” Dean shuddered. Fuck, Cas was talking about his asshole, he was really fixing to finger himself. His face burned and he had to chew his lip to keep from babbling about how fucking ridiculous this was, not in a bad way, just--ridiculous in general. He reached between his own legs, he wasn’t used to stretching that way, but it was okay, not too bad. He blushed harder as he looked down at his spread thighs, one hand on his leaking cock, the other hovering near his ass, waiting for Cas to tell him what to do.

 

“Yeah, I--yeeeeah.” It was--weird, touching himself there sexually, but he decided that it was good weird. He rubbed the pad of his finger over his pucker, sucking his lip into his mouth and kind of laughing a little.

 

“So not supposed to be funny.” Cas told him, but he could tell that he was smiling. Dean’s laugh faded into a moan as he pressed in a little with the tip of his finger, consciously trying not to clench. “Talk to me. Tell me what you’re feeling. I need a visual.”

 

Dean wondered briefly if he could get a snap of what was going on down there, but he decided he neither wanted to let go of his dick or stop playing with his ass so--no, Cas wasn’t getting that money shot right now. He sighed quietly. “Feels good. I’m just--sort of rubbing over it? I don’t--it’s not like fingering someone else. I can’t just--” he trailed off, trying to get his legs wider cause yeah, he’d really started wanting to get _inside_  rather than just massaging the rim.

 

“Get your finger wet for me.” Cas prompted, filling the silence that had fallen as Dan focused on the touching. He barely even thought about what he’d just been doing before he brought his hand up to his lips, closed his index finger inside, and sucked softly. It was kind of tangy, not terrible, considering it was his fucking __ass__ that he was tasting. “Mm, that sounds so good.” Dean sucked more loudly, smacking his lips around the digit in his mouth. “Tease.”

 

“Only a little.” Dean said around his finger, voice muffled and wet sounding. “I--I think I’m good. I want to…”

 

“Yeah, baby, yeah, do it.” Cas said with a groan. Dean copied the noise as he rubbed his slick finger over his hole again, traced the sensitive ring of muscle, hesitated just a little. “God I want to get my tongue on you.”

 

“Fuck, yeah?” He imagined Cas’s tongue wetting him rather than just his spitty finger and he whimpered. “Want to eat me out, Cas?”

 

“Yeeees. Want it so bad. Can you picture that? My tongue licking you all over your pucker...the tip getting inside just enough to make you get loose and fluttery.” That’s the image Dean had in his head as he pressed his finger inside, just to the first knuckle. His breathe hissed out of him. He tried a little further, but ended up having to pull out, get his finger a little more wet, start again. He sank in to the second knuckle and moaned. “Deeper, all the way in, getting your hole wet and sloppy for my cock.” Dean’s hand stuttered into motion around his own cock.

 

“Cas…”

 

“Do you like that, Dean? You like my tongue in your ass? Make you wanna come, baby?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He sounded like a fucking indie rock band, but he didn’t care, it didn’t matter. His finger was as deep as it would go, he knew it wasn’t very much, nothing compared to what Cas would feel like inside of him, but he felt full, stretched, and as he slid it out only to push back in, faster this time, then again, and again. He snarled and pressed his head back against the mattress. _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Yeah. Yes. Oh my god._

__

“This how you’re gonna sound when I’m fucking you? When I’ve got your legs pushed up and my cock buried in that perfect ass of yours. Bet you’re so tight, gonna have to work to get it in and out of you. Can I be a little rough? After I get you opened up--wanna fuck you so hard, Dean.”

 

“Fuck me.” Dean moaned, having to work hard to keep both hands moving in just the right way so that his finger was all the way in at the same time as his thumb was swiping over the swollen and red head of his cock. “Fuck me however you want, Cas. Wanna make you cum. Wanna--wanna be a good boy.” He knew Cas would like that, remembered him saying it to him when he was jerking Dean off against his front door, but he wasn’t prepared for it to _get him off_ _._ Because that sound--that choked gasping sound that shifted in to a growl and finally turned into the yell of Dean’s name muffled by his pillow or his hand or by the way he was always chewing on his lip--that was Cas coming. “Did you just--”

 

“Yes, dammit, you fucker.” He sounded angry, but like in a good way and Dean had to laugh. Which, _oh_ _,_ that did things, felt a little like a punch to the solar plexus the way his ass _clenched_ around his finger. His balls tightened and his cock swelled just a little bigger in his fist. “Come for me, baby. Just like last night when you got it all over me. You come so much, D, want you to come on my dick.” Dean loved that Cas was babbling, that his voice was slow and slurred, knew he’d sound just like that after filling Dean’s insides with his--

 

“Unnngggghhhh.” His toes curled, his back arched, his dick jerked in his fist and come went everywhere. It spurted up over his clenched fingers, splattered his stomach, even hit his chest a little. It was _dirty_  and the literal _fucking best_. He couldn’t feel anything beyond the throbbing in his cock, which had yet to get the hint that it was over and was still twitching in his hand, pretty much forcing him to slide his messy fingers up and wring the ultra sensitive head. He groaned, eyes rolling and ass pressing down on the finger still inside of him, trying to retreat from the over-stimulation. “Fucking hell.”

 

“Was it good for you?” Cas said, still panting a little in Dean’s ear.

 

“Kinda don’t want to stop.” Dean admitted. Come had slipped down his cock and in to his crack, wetting him in a way that he felt was basically a sin to ignore. He moved his finger experimentally, hissing at how much better it seemed to feel post-orgasm. “I’m gonna…I think I’m gonna try two.”

 

“Two what?”

 

“Fingers.” And yeah, okay, it hurt. He breathed slowly, forced himself to relax as he worked the second finger inside himself. He realized he kind of liked the stretch and the burn--the pain of it. He grinned. “Cas, you gotta get in me like--really soon.”

 

“You--I--” Dean grinned wider, he hadn’t realized it was even possible to render Cas speechless. His cockiness only lasted a second though, because he couldn’t focus on that and fingering himself at the same time. God, he should have done this years ago. “Curl your fingers up, toward your belly.”

 

“Okay, I--fuuuck.” He jerked his fingers practically all the way out of himself, turned his face into the pillow to muffle the sounds coming out of his mouth.

 

“Don’t stop.” Cas demanded. So he started again, finding that same spot, hitting it each or every other time he thrust into himself. “Don’t stop until you come again.”

 

“I can’t--” He hadn’t had that much stamina in years, but--but okay it felt kind of like he was definitely going to get there again. Soon. Too soon. But he wasn’t going to stop. Cas told him not to…he was a good boy. Fuck, why did that turn him on so much? It should be weird, but he kind of wanted to-- “Shit. _Fuck _.__ Shit, Cas, I’m--I’m not even touching my dick, how--c-coming. I’m coming!”

 

“Why am I not there to see this right now?” Cas whined over the ridiculous sounds Dean made as he climaxed for the second time in like ten minutes. His stomach was covered, his dick jumping and slapping against the puddle of come there, and he still hadn’t taken his fingers out. Cas should definitely be seeing this. Before he could over think the moment, he grabbed his phone and snapped a few photos. He whimpered softly when he finally moved his hand away from his hole, feeling weirdly empty. He was nervous about it, but he sent the best shot of the three he took and told Cas he’d be right back.

 

He washed up in the bathroom, using a rag to clean himself over the sink and then brushing his teeth before limping back to bed, discarding his crutch and climbing into the sheets. He laughed at himself as he wrestled to untangle them enough to be comfortable.

 

“I’m back.” He said, voice turning soft and sleepy once he had settled back in to bed.

 

“Dead. That picture killed me.” Dean smiled around a yawn and snuggled into his pillows.

 

“Good?”

 

“Good? Dean, you’re fucking perfect.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“You’re totally falling asleep aren’t you?” Cas chuckled softly in his ear and Dean nodded sleepily, settling in deeper into his blankets. “I’ll let you go then.”

 

“Nuh uh.” Dean protested, holding the phone closer and smiling in the dark. “Don’t go.”

 

“What, just stay and listen to you snore?”

 

“Don’t snore.” Dean promised with another yawn. “Stay, okay? Least let me fall asleep. Wanna hear you breathing.”

 

“Okay, Steven Tyler.”

 

“Shut up.” Dean mumbled. “Night, Cas.”

 

“Sweet dreams, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhh *covers eyes*
> 
> You are all wonderful and amazing humans! Thanks so much for reading :)


	18. It's dark inside, that's where my demons hide

_“Argghhh!” Jo’s face blanched up at him apologetically as she pulled the belt tighter around his thigh, blood seeped from the pulpy mess that used to be his knee, but now was a jumble of shredded muscle and splintered bone._

_“I can’t get it to stop bleeding.” Jo chewed her lip, contemplating, and then wedged her knee onto his thigh so that she could use her body weight to shift the belt into the last notch. She shrugged out of her flak jacket and used Dean’s knife to cut the sleeve out. He clenched his eyes shut, gritted his teeth so hard they might have cracked, and tried not to make any more noise as she wrapped his knee tightly in the dirty fabric. “We gotta get out of here, Dean.”_

_“Really? Tired of paradise so soon?” He joked weakly, sitting up, wiping sweat from his eyes. Jo frowned, looking over her shoulder at the smoldering remains of the building they’d been hunkered down in when--Dean shook his head, he couldn’t think about Garth now, he had to take care of Jo. Had to get her out. Somehow…somehow. He reached up and touched her face, forced her to look at him. He knew his grip was a little too hard to be comforting, could see the indention of his fingers in her cheek, but she closed her eyes and nodded, acknowledging what he was trying to say without him actually having to speak the words. “Just another couple of miles, Jo. We get out of the kill zone--they’ll come. They said they’d come.”_

_He’d gotten through on the sat phone after losing Benny. He’d cursed, yelled, damned them all to hell, but had only got the vague promise that if he got his team to a specified location, they’d land a chopper. He wanted to kill all of them. Starting with the man on the phone, Matthew Rogers, who’d promoted out of the field and was directly responsible for sending them into the field tonight. Routine fucking sweep and clear._

_“Let’s get you up then.” Jo stood and braced herself, legs apart, to take the brunt of Dean’s weight as he struggled to his feet. He tested his leg, snarled in pain and shook his head._

_“I can’t fucking--fuck!”_

_“Shh!” Jo put a hand over his mouth, eyes darting. “The fucking burning building is all the attention we need right now, Dean.” She shifted to his left side and wedged her body up under his arm. “You cover right, I got left. Let’s make this last mile, okay?”_

_“When we get out of here--”_

_“Move, Winchester, you can tell me how much you love me later.” They made their way as quickly as they could considering. As they passed the rubble of the building, Dean forced himself not to look at the smears of blood, the combat boot that blended perfectly with the sand, the long leg that had once belonged to his friend. He choked back bile and held his breath against the smell of burning flesh._

__

__*****_ _

__

Koda woke him up with a wet tongue in the face and her low whining. He got a hand in her hair, breathing hard, face wet with tears. It’d been weeks since his last attack, he guessed he was due one. If looked at comparatively, this one was mild. He came back to himself more quickly than usual and he guessed it was Koda’s steady breathing, the familiar muskiness of her fur, and when he finally got his eyes open, her mismatched irises focused intently on his. He kissed her nose and sat up in bed, glancing over at the clock. He only had about twenty before his alarm would have woken him anyway so he might as well just get up. He frowned as he moved closer to the door. Was that bacon?

 

“Hey, you’re up!” Charlie greeted him cheerfully from the kitchen. Her hair was a ratty mess around her face and she was wearing one of his shirts she’d probably stolen from the laundry room. He shook his head, smiling fondly as he headed for the coffee pot.

 

“What are __you__  doing up?”

 

“Making you breakfast! You sounded busy when I got home last night so I didn’t want to bother you with my surprise.” Dean blushed profusely, glad his back was turned to her so that she couldn’t see and razz him for it.

 

“You were--ahem--you were home last night?” He sounded way more casual than he’d actually felt. Koda’s paws clicked across the linoleum and she scratched at the back door leading to the back yard. Dean let her out and took a deep breath before turning to face the redhead. She grinned around a mouthful of bacon.

 

“Not surprised you didn’t notice.” She teased passing him a plate. “Don’t worry, what I heard was pretty mild and I put my headphones in as soon as I got to my room.”

 

“Right. Right.” No big deal. It was cool. He was grown, he could jerk off with his boyfriend without feeling weird about it. Wait, wait, wait, one date does not a boyfriend make. Man friend? No, that sounded creepy. He frowned and shook his head, he’d worry about it later. “So--the big surprise. What’s so important that it got you out of bed before the sun was up?”

 

“I found an apartment!” She clapped her hands excitedly. “It’s this kitschy little studio downtown and it’s perfect! I move in end of the week.”

 

“That’s awesome, Charlie!” Dean grinned at her, accepted her hug with enthusiasm.

 

“I know! You can finally walk around naked again and jerk off on your own couch or whatever to Dr. Sexy.”

 

“I don’t do that!” Dean groaned, but he laughed when she rolled her eyes and nodded like she completely did not believe him. “Whatever. I have to get ready for work.”

 

“Yeah, I can squeeze in a whole hour more of sleep in so Imma go do that. See you for lunch?”

 

“Yep.” He gave her the high five she demanded and ate the rest of his breakfast with a smile on his face. The house would be quieter without her. As much as he complained about her messiness, the last few weeks with her there had been really good. He shrugged off the little twinge of sadness at the thought and decided he’d just insist she visit him often.

 

 

 

 

Dean hummed softly to himself as he pushed the vacuum around the front lobby, lifting minuscule particles of dirt from the carpet. Honestly, he was just waiting around for Cas to get there, he’d cleaned the carpets the afternoon before. He wound the cord as slowly as possible and was just about to give up on starting his day with a brief visit with Cas when someone grabbed his sides. He may have screamed, in a very manly way of course, because shit he hadn’t heard anyone come in over the drone of the vacuum. Grabby hands skittered over his ribs and wrapped around his waist. He relaxed because he recognized the smell of Cas’s cologne. He leaned his forehead against Deans’s shoulder and laughed a little loudly.

 

“That was kind of adorable.”

 

“You scared the shit out of me.” Dean answered, he covered Cas’s hands with his own where they were resting on his stomach. “Good morning by the way.”

 

“Good morning. C’mere.” Dean turned in his arms and smirked upon seeing his seriously ridiculous bed head. He lifted a hand to tousle it even more. Cas closed his eyes and purred, or something like it, scrunching his nose in that way Dean could already recognize as a pleasure tell. He flicked the tip of it with his tongue, beamed when Cas opened foggy blue eyes.

 

“Can I just say that I think it’s ridiculous how much I like you.” He was just being honest, didn’t even mind if it made him sound weird or clingy or whatever else a person could be after a first date and three orgasms with a person. Cas didn’t seem put off though. He leaned in and snuggled his face into Dean’s neck, slipped his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and murmured his own version of a ditto. Dean hugged him closer, nose buried in his dark hair, and sighed contentedly. “Are you as surprised as me about how fast this is moving?”

 

Cas pulled away a little with a frown on his face. “Do you think we’re moving too fast?”

 

“No, I just--well Jess just mentioned something about fourth dates the other day and--I’m okay with how things are going I just meant that--well like I said, I like you a lot, Cas. I was just…wondering. Thinking out loud.” He was babbling, but he didn’t want Cas to think he was trying to find a way out or something. He bit his lip, didn’t quite meet the other man’s eyes. He hadn’t had to deal with finding his way around a new relationship in so long that all he could do was cross his fingers that he wasn’t messing it all up.

 

“Breathe, Dean. It’s okay.” Cas chuckled softly, and okay, that was his hands squeezing Dean’s ass, he liked that, that was good. “If we’re both good with how things are going, I don’t care very much how they’re __supposed__ to go.”

 

“Yeah?” Dean asked, relief evident in the way his body relaxed.

 

“Definitely.” Cas grinned and his fingers dug into Dean’s ass again, pulling their lower bodies tighter together. “So--last night was good. Really good. Phenomenal.” Dean ducked his head to hide both his blush and his grin that maybe was a little cocky. “We talked about doing some things.”

 

“I remember.” Dean confirmed.

 

“I’m sure.” Cas’s eyes danced with amusement and Dean was living for that little dimple in his cheek when he smiled like he was just then. “Something in particular I--”

 

“Goooood morning.” Dean’s head whipped around so hard to the intrusion he heard a faint cracking and thought __ow__. Balthazar leaned against the door frame, smirking around the giant red apple he was munching on. Cas’s hands slipped out of Deans pockets and he stepped a respectable distance away, blue eyes flashing with irritation. “Weren’t we having an administrative meeting this morning, boss man?”

 

“The one time you decide to be punctual…” Cas growled. Dean subtly shifted his stance back and forth, trying to adjust his semi-chub without drawing attention to it.

 

“Oh, sorry--I guess I could leave and come back later. You know, after you’ve debauched the janitor in front of the office camera’s.” Balth grinned and pointed a finger to the corner of the ceiling. Dean winched at the ominous red light glowing in the small black orb, seemingly laughing at him with it’s steady __blink blink blink.__

__

“Just go wait in my office please. I’m coming.”

 

“God, I hope not.” Balth whistled his way out of the lobby and Dean thought his mortification might have been burning a hole through the floor.

 

“Don’t worry about the camera. No one apart from me sees it. And, well, I wouldn’t say no to a little soft core starring you.” Cas booped Dean’s nose, eliciting a groan from the younger man. “I guess I better get in there before he starts snooping through my stuff.”

 

“Have a good day.” Dean told him with a soft smile. Cas wrinkled his nose.

 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” He stepped close and stole a quick kiss, so naturally that it felt as if he had been doing it for years. Dean’s heart stuttered and he knew he was so gone it’d be a miracle if he ever found his way back.

 

 *****

 

 

On Thursday, Dean found himself lugging furniture up three flights of stairs to Charlie’s top floor studio. He set his end of the loveseat on the second landing and leaned against the wall, sweat dripped into his eyes and he was panting to catch his breath. Sam’s head popped over the other end, grinning and looking like he could run a marathon as soon as they finished up.

 

“I hate you.” Dean hissed between breaths. Maybe he needed to get back into the gym, work on a little cardio instead of just the usual round of push ups and crunches he’d been knocking out in the mornings.

 

“In your defense--” Sam began with a shit smeared grin. “You’ve already been doing manual labor today. I just sat in an office taking notes.”

 

“Shut up.” Dean grunted and then pushed away from the wall to take hold of the love seat again. “Go.” Once they’d wrestled the purple monstrosity into the living space and pushed it around to Charlie’s content, he collapsed onto the cushions in a heap and demanded a beer.

 

“Your highness.” Meg said dryly, handing him the icy cold bottle of bud. Dean eyed it warily and sniffed at the open top.

 

“What’d you do to it?” He didn’t wait for an answer before downing half of it in one swallow. A few drops slipped down his chin and he pulled his shirt up to wipe them away. A low whistle sounded from the door and Dean felt his heart begin to flutter. __Flutter.__ Goddammit. Cas grinned at him as he crossed the room, arms bulging under the weight of the boxes he’d carried up with him. He sat them down near the kitchen island and strolled over to take the space next to Dean.

 

“Hey.” He offered, eyes flicking over Dean’s face and down to his still exposed tummy. He quickly put his shirt hem in it’s proper place and stammered a hello. He hadn’t seen much of Cas the days before, he’d been dealing with a flurry of both angry parents and drooling media representatives after a suspension of four of the soccer teams starring players after an incident involving alcohol and vandalism of the weeks upcoming rivals. Cas had leaned in closer and the proximity was doing __things__ to Dean’s nervous system. His eyes flickered rapidly around the room. Meg and Charlie were chatting quietly about a weird piece of art one of them had pulled out of a box on the coffee table. Sam was messing with his phone, pretending not to be looking at the two of them, but so obviously eager to have something juicy to report back to Jess that he was practically vibrating with it.

 

Cas’s breath feathered against his face and his only instinct--was the jerk away. He lifted the beer to his lips and took a long pull. Out of the corner of his eye he could only just make out the wrinkling of Cas’s face in a frown and then he shifted ever so slightly away on the love seat.

 

“Sorry I missed all the fun.” He remarked dryly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he addressed the room.

 

“Just in time to help organize the kitchen.” Charlie beamed with a wave of her hand. Cas groaned, but got to his feet, throwing one last glance over his shoulder at Dean, who didn’t meet his eyes. What was he doing? He picked at the label on his beer bottle and flicked a look upwards. Sam frowned at him, mouthing __what’s up?__ Dean shrugged and looked back at is beer. A sharp pain stung the back of his head. When he looked around Meg was giving him the stink eye. She drew a finger over her throat and then pointed in Cas’s direction with a glare. He tracked the motion with his eyes and sighed. Cas was nodding absently to something Charlie was saying, but he looked--sad? Dean finished off his beer and waited for Charlie to walk away before getting to his feet and moving to take her place beside Cas. Only he found himself leaving through the front door. The steps were behind him two at a time and then the evening sun was hitting his face full force. Leaning against the sun warmed brick wall, he scrambled to figure out what was going wrong inside of him.

 

“You ok?” Dean jumped at the sound of Sam’s voice, at first failing to recognize that he was not in any danger. Out of old habit, his hand shot forward to grasp the wrist connected to the palm resting on his shoulder, fingers tightened in a vise-like grip that had his younger brother swearing in pain as his arm was twisted out and away in a direction that was entirely unnatural. The loud __popping__  of the joints locked in his grip brought Dean out of his reverie and immediately Sam’s wrist was released, but the damage was done. “Fuck!”

 

“Fuck!” Dean copied stepping forward and reaching out to help. Sam shook his head and stepped away. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Is it--did I break it?” Sam, thinking maybe it was just a strained muscle or maybe even dislocated, tried to shake out the pain, but he hissed and growled out another swear. Dean winced in sympathy. “Meg’s a nurse. I’ll go--be right back.”

 

He jogged up the stairs and nearly tripped in his rush to get through the front door. Three pairs of eyes shot in his direction and he pointed over his shoulder. “Uh, Meg, can you go check on Sam? I may have--I think maybe I um--wrist. It’s his wrist.” With narrowed eyes Meg hurried out of the door. Dean mumbled that maybe someone should take ice out and as Charlie hustled to fill a plastic shopping bag with ice from her freezer’s dispenser, Dean used the wall as a support to slide to the floor and put his head between his knees. The one time he didn’t go back for the dog. His breath sounded more like a fog horn and his heart thundered so fast in his chest it made his head spin.

 

 _ _Hey, Winchester.__  He had been dreaming about Jo all week and it was her voice that came to him in that moment as he hyperventilated and prayed to God in heaven and then even through one in to Lucifer in hell that he wasn’t going to black out right now, or worse, throw up all over Charlie’s new floor. Distantly he became aware of someone saying his name. Low and slow, as cool and collected as any person could be, like the world wasn’t crumbling around him that very moment. A flash of color set his teeth vibrating and a wave of sickening heat washed over him. __Finally decided to join us, brother?__

__

Sand stuck in his mouth, his nose, his eyes. He coughed hard in an effort to expel the suffocating substance. His ragged retching was all that he could hear. And the whispers--ghosts pressed in all around. His felt the cool press of steel at the back of his neck and he scrambled to get away, slammed into a hard body that blocked his route of escape. A noise like a wounded animal clawed it’s way out of his throat followed by more gagging as the sand, so much sand, vomited up from his stomach and pooled all around him, sucked him down, down, and down, swallowed him whole. He’d spent years in the desert and he’d never experienced quick sand before. He grasped at the sucking edges of the vortex, desperate for some kind of leverage to keep his head above ground. There. A hand. Someone was with him. He wasn’t alone.

 

Nails dug in hard and the brief moment of respite vanished. No, he wasn’t alone. He reached for his side arm, digging through the scalding hot grains that swirled around his legs. But his side arm, the one he kept strapped to his left thigh, it was gone, and beneath it’s usual home--raw meat, bloody, shredded, bitten off by some--some thing. He screamed and screamed and screamed. Until a sharp dig at his thigh, the gentle but persistent butting of something against his forehead. Warm air tinged with spearmint and--Sam.

 

“Sam. Sam. Sammy.” Dean sobbed, as he fingered the rough denim covering his brother’s thigh, the soft cotton of his t-shirt, a roughly stubbled cheek, hair that was too long and smelled like sweat mixed with melons and Ralph Lauren. “Sammy.”

 

“I got you, Dean.” Sam’s hand landed on Dean’s face heavily enough to make a soft patting sound and he gripped hard, forcing Dean to look at him, to __see__ him. “Hey, Hey! Dean!” Dean started to curl into himself again, but Sam squeezed his face a little harder, fingers biting, forehead butting once again against his brother’s. Dean blinked blearily. “Dean! You’re good. You’re good, alright? I got you!”

 

Dean’s fingers twisted into Sam’s shirt and he pulled him forward, face colliding with his chest. He inhaled the scent he’d known since he was a kid, the scent that had always belonged to just Sam and he started to see that maybe it was true. Maybe--no, not maybe--this was Sam. Sam was here which meant that Dean was __here__ and not--not--he started to nod, indicating he’d brought himself back, or that Sam had, whichever. When he started to lean away, Sam held on harder and Dean got the sense that it was more for his own comfort at this point than for Dean’s. It must have gotten bad on this end of things as well.

 

When Sam finally pulled away his eyes looked red and tired. Dean leaned their foreheads together for a brief moment and Sam nodded once, releasing a pent up breath before getting to his feet and pulling Dean up as well. Dean rubbed the back of his neck, very interested in his scuffed boots. His stomach churned at the thought of looking up to catch the three pairs of eyes he knew would be searching his face for any signs of a second __episode__ or even just an explanation for what set off the first one. Hell--Dean wasn’t sure about that one himself so he couldn’t help them there. He cleared his throat and Sam dropped a hand on his shoulder in comfort. Sam’s hand!

 

“How’s the wrist?” Dean questioned abashedly, looking up with eyes full of sorrow at what had happened outside. Sam held up the hand, now wrapped in a beige ace bandage, and grinned wryly.

 

“Good as new.” The tone of his voice gave away the lie, but Dean didn’t press or call him out on it. Meg interjected then anyway.

 

“You Winchesters are either tough as nails or dumb as rocks.” She said with an easy smirk. “Big moose needs to go for an xray.”

 

“Moose?” Sam strained a laugh, still touching Dean’s shoulder, who leaned in to the contact and was grateful for it. A not so small part of him wanted to hold his hand and hide his face in his brother’s shoulder. The thought made his face burn. He wasn’t a child, but damn if the idea of it wasn’t enough to make him want to cry for the lack of that specific embrace. Sam, noting the tension bleeding back in, tightened his hold on Dean’s arm, tugged him another step closer even.

 

“You got that big dumb useless look about you.” Meg shrugged. Dean caught sight of Charlie, who was looking at him with huge eyes and worrying her lip with her teeth. He could almost hear the telepathic __are you ok????__ she was sending in his direction. And then--Cas. He was standing farther back from the other two, face blank of all emotion and--

 

“Son of a bitch.” Dean shook out of Sam’s grasp and crossed the room in three steps, cupping Cas’s face in his hand and running his thumb over his swollen and bleeding mouth. “Are you ok?”

 

“Me?” Cas croaked, blue eyes darkened so deeply with concern they seemed a different color entirely. “Dean, you were--”

 

“Did I hit you?” Dean broke in, finding the split part of Cas’s lip and narrowing his eyes at it. Cas shook his head, reaching to loosely wrap his fingers around Dean’s wrist.

 

“No, I got too close when you were--um, out? I didn’t think--I went to grab you to keep you from hurting yourself and your head just kind of…” He trailed off, waving his hand as if it were no big deal. Dean’s frown grew two sizes. It was a huge deal, dammit.

 

“I’m so sorry, Cas.”

 

“It’s alright, Dean. I mean it.” Cas insisted, no trace of doubt in either his voice or his eyes as Dean studied them. He sighed and made to step away. Cas grabbed his shirt sleeve and pulled him back in, kissed him with a fierceness that took Dean’s breath away. The taste of blood in his mouth almost took him back to the dark place, but then underneath it he tasted Cas and he took more and more and more until Cas winced and a fresh waved of irony blood filled his mouth and drew him out of his stupor. He broke the kiss and smiled sheepishly.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Stop apologizing.” Cas growled, but he smiled back and this time when Dean moved away, he let him go. Meg was rolling her eyes and smirking, Charlie looked kind of annoyed that they’d gone from zero dark thirty to Sleepless in Seattle or something. Dean opened his arms to her and she rushed over like she would accept the hug, but instead punched him in the arm.

 

“I was really worried about you!” She wailed, tears threatening to spill.

 

“I’ll be better in no time.” He offered in sympathy, forcing her into a hug and petting her red ponytail. She hugged back finally and Dean shushed her tears. “Sorry I scared you.”

 

“Don’t apologize. Just--just be ok.”

 

“I am.” Mostly. He still felt twisty inside and he caught Sam’s eye, they shared a silent but pointed conversation. It was time to go.

 

“Think you can come with me to the hospital?” Sam asked, giving him the out he so desperately needed. Dean kissed the top of Charlie’s head and nodded.

 

“Yep, let’s go check out the damage.” The two said goodbye and headed downstairs, taking the cramped steps side by side and leaning in to one another.

 

“You don’t have to take care of me.” Sam said softly once they stepped out into the waning sunlight. Dean expelled a breath and nodded, shoulders sagging and face crumpling rapidly. He’d been putting on a brave front in there for the benefit of the others. He was all fucked up and for the rest of the walk to Sam’s car he kept his face pressed into his little brother’s bicep and in the dark of the front seat on the drive to the hospital--he even held his hand.

 

 

 

 

Later that night, after several hours at the hospital with Sam, another few sitting in the driveway and talking through what had happened, and a brief stint of crying in the shower, Dean was lying in bed, Koda pressed tight to his side, her face hidden in his neck. His phone buzzed from the bedside table and he rolled slightly to reach it, some of his body weight resting on Koda’s side. She huffed at him, licking his chin and nuzzling deeper into his neck. He scratched her behind the ears and kissed the bit of her face that he could reach before opening the text.

 

 

**C: What happened with Sam?**

**D: Cast for six weeks :( fractured his wrist**

**D: Such a shitty brother**

**C: No you’re not!**

**C: Are you feeling better?**

**C: I feel shitty for asking, but was it something I did?**

**D: NO!**

**D: Cas, no! I’m not really even sure, but it wasn’t you.**

**D: I promise.**

**C: If you’re not sure, how can you promise :P**

**D: *heavy sigh***

**C: I’m teasing!**

**C: Would it be ok for me to call you?**

****

Dean stared for a long time at the words. He didn’t feel up to a conversation. He was still feeling weird from earlier and he hadn’t been able to figure out what triggered him today. Brow furrowed, he began several texts in reply, but never got around to sending one. Instead he tucked the phone under his pillow, burrowed deeper into the covers and peered into the semi-dark of his room until he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeey! Long time no see! First of all--thanks for hanging in there! I hope this was even just a tiny bit worth the wait! I started a new job this year and things have been crazy busy since June so if that works as an excuse...forgive me! Second, I'm so, so, so grateful to all of my commenters, kudo givers, and followers. You're amazing! I solemnly swear to update in a much smaller time frame this go around :) here's to these two idiotes will keep giving us all the feels.


	19. Breathe

_“Watch this, Sammy!” Dean called, voice echoing around the rusty playground, abandoned both because of the early freeze and the aged neglect of most of the equipment. Sam looked over from his place on the leaning and creaky merry-go-round, tongue poking through the gap in his grin._

_He’d lost the two from the top the day before when he caught the weight of John’s heavy ammo bag as it was slung haphazardly into his face on their father’s way out the door. He’d barely even noticed his youngest son’s wail of shock and pain as he lectured Dean about looking after Sam, keeping the doors locked, saying their prayers. Dean watched the tail end of the car disappear around the side of the motel, rubbing the sore spot on his arm where his dad’s fingers had dug in, cementing the point that he had to be a good boy. I’m only eleven, Dean thought to himself, and I’m already a better man than you. He’d shoved into the room, pissed off and ready to fight, but Sam had run to him from the bathroom clutching his teeth between his skinny fingers, blood dripping down his chin, and everything else fell away._

_“Look, Dean! You think maybe the tooth lady might come?” At seven, despite all the bullshit he’d faced, Sam was still a wide eyed optimist. Dean spent four hours after he went to sleep scouring every parking lot in the vicinity for discarded change just so he’d have something to tuck under the kid’s pillow._

_“You watching?” He double checked, pointing a finger at Sam and winking._

_“I’m watching!” Sam called, standing up and shading his eyes to make sure he had a good view. Dean kicked off his shoes and surfed down the big kid slide in his socks, landing with a flourished roll in the dirt at the bottom. Sam oohed and ahhed, begging Dean to teach him how to do it too._

_Dean made sure his younger brother was good and exhausted before challenging him to a race back to the motel. Once there, he forced him into the shower and dumped out the small sack he’d hidden in his backpack. A mound of ketchup piled up on the counter next to the stove, packets he’d been filching from the Mcdonald’s two streets over. One by one he tore them open and squeezed every drop into a pot. He hid the empty packs at the bottom of the trash and yanked open the fridge. A half carton of milk and a sandwich bag of slightly shriveled baby carrots lay waiting for him. He added the milk to the pan and turned the burner on, letting it sit until it started to bubble. Then he broke the carrots up and added them in the mix. His guts twisted in hunger, reminding him that he’d skipped lunch and only eaten a half a pack of pop-tarts at breakfast, leaving the other half for Sam to have the next day at breakfast._

_Sam padded out of the bathroom in his flannel pajamas and sniffed at the air. “What’s that smell?”_

_“Dinner.” Dean grunted, taking the pan off the stove and pouring it up into bowls. At first he divided it evenly, but the portions were so pitiful that he poured some of his into Sam’s bowl before carrying it over to the table. The younger boy scrunched up his face._

_“What the heck is that?” He asked, pushing the bits of carrot around with his spoon._

_“It’s uh--I-Italia Digornio uh--E’ Soupe.” Pulled that one out of your ass, Dean thought to himself, filling his spoon and then his mouth. His bowl was nearly empty before Sam took his first bite. His mouth curled down in a thoughtful frown, but he shrugged and finished the bowl, scraping the side clean by the end of it._

_“That was good. How come you’ve never made it before?” Dean snorted and threw the paper bowls in the trash._

_“Only for special occasions.” They sat together on the couch watching grainy Andy Griffin episodes. Around midnight, Dean shook his little brother awake, made him brush his teeth and climb into the musty smelling twin bed they shared when their dad was around, but for tonight he would have to himself. As Dean was tucking the covers in around him Sam smiled sleepily and reached up a hand to touch the older boy’s cheek._

_“Happy Thanksgiving, Dean.” He rolled onto his side and was fast asleep. He frowned a little as Dean’s hot tears drip-drip-dripped onto his cheek, but he didn’t wake. That night he dreamed about surfing and fancy ravioli. Dean didn’t dream at all. He never did anymore. What was the point?_

_In the morning, Sam used the two dollars he’d gotten from the tooth fairy to buy them each a hot chocolate on their walk to the park. The liquid warmed Dean’s empty belly and he tried to drink it slow so that maybe he could trick himself into thinking he was full. He sat on the swings, digging a hole with his toe in the sand. He’d almost forgotten about thanksgiving. About turkey and dressing and gravy and rolls and potatoes and four layer mac and cheese casserole. He--_

_“Dean!” Sam was sailing through the air, falling from the top of the slide in slow motion, arms and legs wheeling almost comically until--THUD-crrrrrich-- “ARRRRRGGGGHHHH!”_

_“Sammy!” Dean ran full speed across the park and skidded to a stop, falling to his knees so he could pull Sam up off the ground and into his lap. The younger boy whimpered, snot and tears all over his face, clutching his arm to his chest._

_“Hurts, Dean. Hurts real bad.” Sam sobbed into his chest._

_“I know, buddy. I know, I got you.”_

_“Where exactly are your parents?” The tall man in the white coat looked down his nose at Dean, glancing around the otherwise empty hospital waiting room for an older party. Dean’s heart lurched. Crap._

_“Uh--well my mom is dead.” If he worked the sympathy card early, maybe the guy would go easier on him. The doctor raised his brows._

_“And your dad?” He gave Dean a stern look. “If you two are on you own I’ll have to call--”_

_“No!” Dean nearly shouted over him, halting the man’s words. “Um, our dad is, um, at work. I couldn’t--I didn’t get him on the phone. I can try again.” He lied through clenched teeth, fighting back nausea. How was he going to get them out of this? It had never crossed his mind when bringing Sam to the emergency room that they were going to ask a lot of questions about why two boys their age had shown up on their own, one sporting a broken arm and the other ten pounds under weight and hiding bruises under layers of flannel and a canvas jacket. His only though had been getting Sam to someone who could make the pain stop. But now--_

_“Tell him your brother will be ready to leave in two hours. I leave at seven this evening. If he hasn’t picked you up by then--”_

_“He will.” Dean assured him, blinking tears away rapidly. He sat by the phone, staring at the rotary until the numbers blurred and his shaking fingers dialed by memory._

_“Singer Auto.” Bobby’s gravelly voice dropped lead into Dean’s stomach and his throat went dry. “Hello?”_

_“H-hey, Bobby.” He choked out, tears falling despite all his effort to make them stop._

_“Dean? Been a long time. How’s it--”_

_“Bobby--we’re in trouble. I don’t know what to do.”_

_“Where’s your daddy?”_

_“They’re gonna take Sam. If someone doesn’t come, they’re gonna take Sam and it’s gonna be my fault. Bobby--”_

_“Where are you at, son?” Dean could hear the rattling of keys on the other side of the line and he slumped so far down in the hard plastic seat that he slid all the way into the floor and buried his face in his knees. He sobbed out the name of the town and hospital. “I’m coming. You hear me? I’m coming now. You’re gonna be ok. Sam’s gonna be ok.”_

_Dean believed him. Bobby never lied. Bobby never let him down._

__

__

__*****__

__

Dean sat ruminating in his office at work, staring at the partially dialed number on his phone and rubbing Koda’s ear between his fingers. He’d brought her to work with him for the first time that morning. After everything that happened the day before and the awful night’s rest, he hadn’t been in the head space to go it alone. At first, he’d tethered her leash to his belt, worried about her getting distracted and running off to investigate new sights and smells and the crush of people in the halls.

 

He’d quickly realized his mistake as he tried to maneuver around desks and in and out of bathroom stalls, the leash tangling up and Koda bonking her head or running into the back’s of his knees. He unhooked her and wondered why he’d ever doubted her. She sat close enough that he was within her line of sight and scent, but far enough away that he wasn’t tripping over her as he worked. In the hallways he felt her side brushing his leg as she walked alongside him, her attention never wavering in any direction other than his own. He worried about how his coworkers, the students, visitors to the campus might react, but for the most part they had been great. Hardly any prying questions, and only a few people stared…that he could tell.

 

He set his phone aside and leaned down to rub her head more thoroughly and kiss her damp nose. “That’s my girl.” He murmured, the dog’s lids drooped a little and her tongue lolled out against the underside of his chin. She dropped her head back onto his thigh when he leaned away and picked his phone back up. His fingers, slick with sweat, misdialed the last few numbers so that he had to backspace and dial again. The ringing was almost deafening, somehow. Koda nudged his hand with her nose and he went back to scratching her ears.

 

“Singer Auto.” Same greeting, same rough voice, same old feeling in the pit of Dean’s stomach. Safety. There had never been anything other than that.

 

“Hey, Bobby.” Voice thick, Dean had to wipe surreptitiously at his face. Damn allergies.

 

“Dean? That you, son?” Guilt soured the warmth in his belly. He shouldn’t be so surprised about hearing from the man he’d raised as his own.

 

“It’s me.”

 

“How you been, boy?” The surprise had worn off and Dean found himself grinning at the joy that nearly bubbled across the airwaves that connected them. “I talked to your brother here while back. How’s that new baby?”

 

“Rotten like the rest.” Dean laughed, Bobby chuckled and Dean could picture him shaking his head, lifting his hat up, tugging it back down.

 

“Figures. Thanks in part to you I bet.”

 

“Bah!” Dean smiled, pressing a hand over his stomach, trying to force the nerves away. “Listen, Bobby--I uh--I was hoping you’d set a plate for me. At uh--at Thanksgiving.”

 

“Bet your ass I will, boy.” They talked for nearly an hour, falling into a rhythm so easy it was like no time or tension had even passed between them. As they were saying goodbye, Dean finally begrudgingly admitting he was shirking work to be on the phone, he brought up the thing he’d dreaded most about the call.

 

“Hey, Bobby, you think El--you’re sure it’s alright I come around?” He couldn’t even say her name. It caught and tore like glass, leaving his voice raw and throat aching.

 

“We’ve been waiting on you to come home a long time, son.” Bobby replied gruffly. Dean exhaled, chin dropping to his chest in relief. __Home.__  “Both of us.”

 

“Y-yeah?” He sniffed wetly and nodded.

 

“No question.” And then a beat later “Love you, son.”

 

“Yep. Talk soon, Bobby.” He hung up before he made a blubbering fool of himself, laughing shortly and using his shoulder to clear his face. A soft rap on the door nearly had him tipping over in his chair. “Son of a--” Cas smirked from the entrance.

 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” Koda lifted her head from under the desk and peered at him with wide eyes, her body quivering with a desire to seek him out. Cas’s face registered his surprise at seeing her there and Dean remembered with no small amount of guilt that he hadn’t gotten around to reporting her presence to him.

 

“I meant to stop by and tell you.” His hand tapped out a beat on the desk and he smiled sheepishly. “Just been a little--”

 

“Busy avoiding me?” Cas offered with a grin when Dean couldn’t find words to fill in the blank. Dean, to his credit, blushed as he refrained from denying it.

 

“Yeeeeah.” He drawled, holding his hands up in a _what can you do_  gesture. “I have all of her official paperwork here for your file and all.”

 

“Don’t worry about it.” Cas smiled at him, blue eyes twinkling playfully like there was more he wanted to say. Koda made a soft noise and drew Dean’s attention back to her.

 

“If you shut the door, I think someone wants to say hi.” Cas nudged the door closed with his foot as Dean unclipped Koda’s harness. She shook her whole body the way she did after a swim in the pond at home, flinging off the weight of her days work and almost immediately turning into a different dog. Tail wagging she bounded across the room and crashed into Cas’s legs, knocking him backwards into the door. A stupid smile spread over Dean’s face in response to his booming laugh.

 

“Hey, there girl. How’s it going?” After she’d had her fill of his affection she roamed around the room, sniffing boxes of supplies and sneezing on a dusty push broom parked in a corner. Cas made his way over to Dean, rounding to his side of the desk and leaning against the edge. His toes nudged against Dean’s and he studied the rugged black of his work boots verses the supple brown leather of Cas’s dress shoes. An absurd image of the two pairs of shoes lined together at the end of his bed had his face tinting red.

 

“How’s the uh--” He motioned to Cas mouth, lip edged in soft bruising and a ragged split that had scabbed over.

 

“Not bad. Remember what I told you about street cred that first time you hit me?” Cas offered with a smug grin, forcing a groan out of Dean as he slumped in his chair. “At this point I’m practically Headmaster of the year. In fact--I might even take the world title soon.”

 

“Alright, alright.” Dean grumbled kicking the dark haired man’s foot.

 

“Not to dampen the mood--but I was hoping we could talk.”

 

Dean could almost hear that second shoe dropping somewhere nearby.

 

“Yeah, no, for sure.” Cas cocked his head curiously at Dean’s run on of words and he back pedaled to clarify. “Sorry, I lived in California for a little while and it’s this whole thing they do that I kind of picked up and--you know what? That doesn’t matter. We can talk.”

 

“You’re blubbering. You nervous about something?”

 

“Don’t goad me.” Dean sneered, but Cas only laughed and reached out to grab his hand.

 

“Nothing to be nervous about, Dean.”

 

“I’m always nervous around you.” Dean mumbled, not meeting his eyes.

 

“Must be uncomfortable.” He pulled his leg back in time for Dean’s kick to miss and laughed.

 

“What did you want to talk about?” His heart was racing, and he was afraid to ask, but if he was being broken up with he would really like to go ahead and know now.

 

“I’ve been thinking that this is all pretty new for you.”

 

“Dating?” Dean smarted, earning an eye roll in reply.

 

“Being bisexual. I remember when it was new to me too and I know that it an be overwhelming at first. The experience and the emotions…telling everyone.” He paused, Dean got the feeling as if he were in wait of some sort of reply so he filled the quiet.

 

“A little. But not--it hasn’t been bad.” He frowned. Had he given off the vibe that it had been bad? “It’s been good.”

 

“For me too.” Cas smiled warmly, gently fiddling with Dean’s fingers. “Really good. But I think that maybe, sometimes, it’s a little bit too much? For you.”

 

“So..” Dean was back to looking at their shoes, that perfect picture of them being lined up at the foot of the bed fading from view, slipping through his fingers. “So you want to--you’re saying you--”

 

“Dean? Hey, look at me.” Dean did and Cas’s smile seemed to grow wider. “I’m saying that if you want to slow down, we can slow down. If you need to--step back a few paces, let this just be __ours__  for a little bit, I’m ok with doing that.”

 

“I don’t know if I understand.”

 

“I want to be with you. Just you. I don’t care if anyone else--if you need this to be a secret for--until you feel more comfortable about it, then we can.”

 

“I--” Dean pondered this idea. Secret? Is that what he wanted?

 

“I just saw how being around Charlie and Sam made you feel.”

 

“I don’t think I…”

 

“Dean.” Cas said firmly. “You flinched when I tried to kiss you and then you spiraled into an anxiety attack so bad you broke my face.”

 

“I didn’t-- _ _break__ it persay.” He whined, but grudgingly admitted to himself that while he didn’t think it was the __entire__  reason he had spiraled--it may have had something to do with it. “Can I think about it?”

 

“Sure.” Briefly, Cas’s fingers tightened around his and then he let go and straightened away from the desk, nearly tripping over Koda who neither had noticed occupying the bit of floor near them. “I need to wind up my day. Claire has this pregame day ritual she goes through an--oh shoot!”

 

“Shoot?” Dean smirked, getting to his feet and linking both of their hands together, wanting to touch him just a little bit more before he left.

 

“I was coming to ask you if you could check the bathrooms at the soccer field? The tournament was supposed to be tomorrow at ACA, but there was some kind of flooding issue and we had to move it to our fields. I completely forgot.”

 

“No, problem. That is my job you know. I’m not bad at it.” Cas was a big fan of the eye roll today. Dean released his hands and grabbed his lapel, tugging him forward. “Not bad at this either.”

 

He tried to be gentle, keeping Cas’s wounded lip in mind, but good intentions were just that--intentions. Cas carded his fingers through his hair and he was lost. He backed him against the door and plunged his tongue into Cas’s mouth. The roughness of the split in his lip scraped against the underside of Dean’s tongue and the salty taste made him shiver. Inside, Cas’s mouth tasted like mint and it was baffling to Dean how he could always taste so damn good. His mouth probably tasted like peanut butter and pepsi.

 

“Why do you always taste so good?” Cas groaned, pulling away to breathe. Dean chuckled softly, kissing his jaw, his ear, that place behind his ear that he had to dab cologne on because damn--it was a good spot to bury his nose. Cas’s watch beeped, interrupting all of his dirty thoughts. “Duty calls.” Cas joked, giving him a last kiss, before pushing him away and leaving him standing there alone.

 

 *****

 

Saturday’s sunrise filled Dean’s studio with blinding light. Despite the pounding in his head brought on by lack of sleep, he kept working, straight through breakfast and nearly past lunch. Finally, he sat on the stool at his back and took in the painting. He’d woken at four am, head full of white noise. The canvas seemed to thrum under his fingers as he worked first with pencil and then with oils and rags, the confusion trapped in his chest and that niggling feeling that he was missing something bleeding out onto the stretch of empty white until it was full of color and dark. He laughed to himself, shaking his head. He was an idiot sometimes.

 

Cas stared back out at him, suspended in that moment he’d offered to keep their relationship a secret. How had Dean not noticed it then? The taut purse of his mouth, the tightness in his jaw, and his blue eyes nearly hidden behind his deeply lined squint. Years. Cas had spent _years_  hiding who he was, who he _wanted_ to be, how could Dean have thought for even a second that it wouldn’t hurt him for Dean to agree that they should hide what they were now?

 

“You stupid son of a bitch.” He was still dragging his wrinkled t-shirt over his head as he tripped through the front door, slapping his leg and whistling at Koda to follow.

 

 

 

“The fuck…” The parking lot was jammed with cars and Dean cursed when he was forced to park at the bank next door and limp his way back to the field. Katie Evans, an english teacher working the gate, waved him through with a big smile and only once he’d rounded the side of the bleachers and the crowd came into view did it all sink in, what he was doing here. He took comfort in Koda’s weight pressed against his legs and, taking a deep breath, began to search for Cas. He found him midway down, blessedly, on the bottom row so Dean didn’t have to worry about making the awkward climb through the crowd. “This seat taken?”

 

Cas looked around, mouth and eyes wide, as he took him in. Dean raised his brow and motioned to the empty expanse of bench beside him. Cas scooted over, freeing up a little more room. Dean sat and Koda wedged herself between his legs, chin resting on his knee. Dean kept his eyes on the field, mouth twitching in amusement at the way Cas was still gaping at him. “So--big soccer fan?”

 

“I watched the Olympics.” He murmured with a shrug, finally turning to look at Cas. Blue eyes and his nose crinkled along with his laugh. Dean, stomach and heart fighting a war over which he should pay more attention to, reached across the space between them, inches that felt like an expanse of seas, and linked their fingers.

“Who’s winning?” In theory, he was completely nonchalant, cool as a fucking cucumber. In reality--his hand was sweaty and he sounded like an adolescent version of himself. Cas’s thigh pressed against his own and he pulled Dean’s hand closer.

 

“We are of course.”

 

“Claire kicking ass?” Dean was looking in the direction of the field, but he couldn’t really see anything. He was freaking out. There were hundreds of people here. People who knew him. People who didn’t. People both he and Cas worked with everyday. Some of them, all of them, none of them, saw the way they held hands. The way Cas’s thumb stroked the back of his. The way Cas was looking at him. The way Cas’s mouth touched his ear.

 

“Breathe, Dean.” So he did. He breathed and he watched a soccer game. With his boyfriend. __His boyfriend.__ “Were you painting this morning?”

 

“Yeah, why?” Dean sniffed at himself. Did he smell like he’d been painting?

 

“You’ve got--well there’s a little blue, just there.” Cas motioned to Dean’s forehead just over his eyebrow. Dean touched the place with his fingertips, smiling as he remembered pinching it earlier, trying to get the blue of Cas’s eyes right.

 

“Your fault.” He muttered. Cas narrowed his eyes. “Those damn eyes.”

 

“You--you painted me?”

 

“Don’t look so bewildered.” Dean smirked, enjoying having the upper hand, enjoying the confidence that had begun to build because of it. “You’re pretty much all I paint these days.”

 

“Really?” Cas breathed, face softening, lips curving, enticing Dean to dart in and peck them, witnesses be damned. “Can I see them sometime?”

 

“Maybe. Depends.” He replied with a noncommittal shrug.

 

“Depends?” Cas dropped his hand to supply air quotes to the statement and then crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t like this new tone of yours.” Dean grinned. “But--what does it depend on?”

 

“What’s in it for me.” A shared smile smoldered between them, full of promises that sent electricity racing up Dean’s spine.

 

“Can I think about it?” Cas mocked, nudging Dean with his shoulder and laughing when he whined about having his mistakes thrown in his face. “Dean?” Dean turned to face him, brows raised in question. Cas was beaming--bright as the sun. “Thank you.”

 

He didn’t have to say what for. Dean understood. Their hands found each other again and Cas didn’t wait for Dean to ask before he began to explain what was happening on the field.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has arrived! An update! Who is shocked? Awed? Disappointed?
> 
> I kind of liked this chapter a lot as I was writing in my head and then as I put it all into a document I still liked it a lot so I hope ya'll do to. Thanks for sticking around this far and giving me all of your love and support! Can't wait to have more to share with all of you beautiful people!


	20. every time that you get undressed I hear symphonies In my head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter at your own risk. So much dirty XD

“Did you see that shot?” Claire screamed as she launched herself at Cas after the game. The crowd flooded around them, celebrating the girls victory as if it held just as many stakes as the Superbowl. “Did you see that fucking shot!? That was crazy!”

“Insane!” Cas agreed, ignoring her casually dropped curse word and lifting her off her feet with the one arm he had slung around her waist, the other still linked to Dean by their joined hands. Claire pulled back, beaming so brightly Dean had to laugh as her infectious joy leached into him. Much to his surprise--she hugged him too.

“Good job.” He offered, belatedly embracing her in return just as she was going to pull away. Awkward son of a bitch.

“I didn’t know you were a fan.” She smirked, dragging her jersey up to wipe the sweat off of her face.

“He watches the Olympics.” Cas grinned, nudging him in the side with an elbow.

“Poser!” Claire groaned, punching Dean in the shoulder. She eyed their hands and the annoyance faded to make way for her smile to return. “Niiiice. Hey, can you drive your boyfriend home so I can borrow the car?”

“Claire..” Cas’s tone was warning, but his daughter only rolled her eyes and held her hand out, wriggling her fingers in demand.

“I’m just going to Kaya’s for like a--”

“Party?” Dean had never seen Cas’s brows raised so high.

“Celebration?” Claire’s brows rose just as high, dropped again and she grinned. “Yeah, celebration. Cause we kick ass.” Their silent stand off drew out long enough that Dean grew bored and diverted his attention to Koda who sat patiently at his side, tail thumping as she took in the milling crowd. He petted her head and tried to follow her gaze to the most interesting looking people. A caught sight of a few students, who raised their hands in greeting and threw sneaky little grins at each other. He could have sworn he saw a pair of guys exchange a few bills when they spotted he and Cas holding hands, as if they’d put money on the pairing. Red faced, he looked away quickly and told himself not to hyperventilate.

“God, dad, I’m not going to an orgy.” Claire was huffing at Cas when he tuned back in to the conversation. Can handed over the keys with an exaggerated sigh. “This wouldn’t even happen if you didn’t insist we ride to every game together.”

“It’s tradition. Make smart choices!” Claire snorted, but darted in to kiss his cheek before skipping away, long ponytail swinging in a wide arc. Dean offered a supportive smile.

“She’s a good kid.”

“Yeah, I know.” Cas shook his head and shrugged. “It’s just hard to let go. She used to want to hang out with me after every win.”

“I can relate. Kind of. I mean I guess it’s different, but when Sam decided he’d rather be at techy summer camp rather than eating junk food and watching awful movies with me--it was tough.” They’d began the walk to Dean’s car, Cas grumbling playfully at how far away he’d parked

“I guess I just never prepared myself for the day when I wasn’t her favorite person.” Cas said as they reached the car and much to his delight, Dean opened the passenger side door for him. He grinned and sketched an awful curtsy. “How gallant.”

“Shut up.” Dean laughed, flicking him the bird. Cas pretended to be offended for half a beat and then darted in to kiss his cheek.

“Thanks.” He said and then slid into the car, patting his thigh so that Koda jumped up onto his lap, man and dog looking expectantly toward Dean to close the door. He shook his head, clicking his tongue as he muttered.

“High maintenance.”

“Spoiled.” Cas called to him through the closed door. The drive to Cas’s was short, and once Dean had pulled into the driveway Cas turned to him with an expectant smile.

“You’re coming in.” It wasn’t a question, not even close. He was already reaching across the seat to turn the key back and take it along with him as he exited the car and made his way up to the front door. Dean followed with a smile tilting his lips, leaving Koda’s working harness in the front seat. After carefully toeing off his shoes so that he wouldn’t lose his balance he followed Cas to the kitchen. “You hungry? I made roast beef sandwiches last night if you want.”

“Sure. I’m gonna put Koda out.”

“Just leave the door open.” Cas called from the fridge as Dean crossed to the French doors beyond the bar top and opened them to let Koda bound out into the back yard. She barked happily as she rolled around in the new smelling grass, running in circles and leaping after some invisible floating thing in the air. Dean watched her a moment longer before heading back to lean against the counter top and watch as Cas fixed the two of them a sandwich. “I hope you like pepper jack.”

“Sounds good.” He replied with a shrug. Cas pointed to a cabinet.

“Can you grab some glasses? I have beer if you want it.” Cas put the two sandwiches into the toaster oven as Dean took down two glasses and crossed to the fridge. The inside was packed with Tupperware, a mostly empty gallon of milk, four kinds of cheeses, a variety of juice and a jug of tea. The beer was tucked in the bottom drawer, Dean grabbed one for himself and waited for Cas to choose what he wanted with his own meal.

“Sweet tea please.” He dropped the warmed sandwiches hastily onto their plates, shaking out his hand and sucking on his burned fingertips. He offered Dean a sheepish smile. “Everytime.”

With a smirk, Dean all but swaggered over to him, taking his wrist in his grasp and bringing the fingers in question to his own lips. He kissed them one by one, the moistness of Cas mouth ghosting onto his lips. “Better?”

“Yep.” Cas croaked. He left the room with the plates, Dean paused to wash his hands and whistle for Koda to come back in before he followed with their drinks and sat next to Cas on the sofa in the living room. They ate in relative quiet, Koda curled in the recliner across from them. Dean finished his sandwich first, wiping his fingers on his pants leg for lack of a better place. “Sorry, I should have gotten a napkin or something.”

“No problem. These are old anyway.” Cas nodded, absently reaching to touch smudges of paint on the thigh of his jeans. Dean’s muscles twitched under the delicate brush of his fingertips. He sucked down most of his beer in an effort not to freak out about it. Cas stacked their plates on the coffee table and then shifted on the sofa, pulling one leg up underneath him and turning to face Dean more. He leaned his elbow on the back of the cushions, propped his chin on it.

“So how’d you get into painting?” Dean shrugged, shifting as best as he could as he tried to bring the memory to the forefront of his mind.

“I don’t know—I sketched things out a lot as a kid. Goofy stuff to make Sammy smile. I took an art class in school once, found out I had a little talent. Met a man in Sudan who painted with mud—that’s really what dragged me in to it I think. Seeing the things he created with dirt and water and berries or whatever he could find to make color.” He smiled, thinking about the bright spot that his memory seemed to hold at the center of the darkness that he’d experience in that place—the gaunt faces of kids who were starving, women forced to do unspeakable things to survive, men broken and bloodied by the ravages of war—those images were all there too, but they seemed hazy—far away. But the image of a brown faced man and his little white dog—the first thing Dean had painted on to the stretched fabric of an undershirt—that image was entirely clear. “So I bought this little kit I could carry with me and just started going at it every day until I got pretty good at it.”

“What do you do with them?”

“Nothin really.” He felt guilty saying it out loud. “Mostly they just stack up, collect dust. Sometimes I don’t even finish them all. Mostly it’s just—therapeutic I guess.”

“I think that’s okay.” Cas had reached out for him, finding his hand in the space between them, toyed with his fingers as he spoke. “To just have something that makes you feel good, feel at peace.” He thought for a moment and then smiled. “I play the piano I think—to unwind, clear my thoughts.”

“My mom did too. She uh—she used to play Hey Jude. Was teaching me a little—before she died.”

“That’s who taught me too. She was the pianist at my dad’s church. Never missed a service.” Cas smiled fondly. Dean wondered if the other man knew what he was doing with Dean’s hand. He’d moved on from playing with his fingers, had trailed upward, begun to trace the vein at Dean’s wrist, wending upward to the crook of his elbow along it’s stark path and tracing it back downward again. Dean’s skin erupted with goose bumps. Cas’s hand turned over, the tops of his nails barely brushing up his arm and back down again. Dean swallowed hard, shifted his seat so that he was lower on the cushions and leaned his head against the sofa back. “When I got so good that I was playing Carol of the Bells and Mozart’s Concertos she teased that I’d surpassed the master and she expected me to repent.”

Dean smiled, eyes drifting shut as he listened, half focused on the tickle of Cas’s fingertips floating against his forearm, pressing under the rolled sleeve of his flannel. He tapped softly and Dean peaked through his lashes. Cas tugged at the fold indicating that Dean should budge up so that he could peel the outermost layer of his clothes off, he obeyed, shrugging out of the shirt. His mouth had gone a little dry. He could really use a drink. Cas pushed beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt, rolling the fabric and tracing the lines of his tattoo.

“Tell me about this?” He asked softly, Dean was glad for the whisper, afraid that some delicate spell had been woven over them and could be broken by sudden moves or rushed sounds. Dean thought about the tattoo there. Etched in black and grey, a skull was displayed starting at the ball of his shoulder and flowing down his bicep. It sported a dress uniform style cap emblazoned with the Marine Corps eagle, globe, and anchor. It’s teeth gritted around the blade of a knife, questionably shaded to look like blood discoloration. A banner wrapped underneath intoned “Retreat Hell!” A smile ghosted over his lips.

“I got that with my buddy Benny, right after our first taste of battle. He dragged me into this damn parlor and told me ‘Dean, brother, we done seen some shit.’ Next thing I know, I’ve got a guy jabbing needles into my arm and I walk out with this ugly son of a bitch bleeding like hell.” Cas smiled, scratching lightly over the black and grey lines of the tattoo as he listened. At some point he’d shifted closer and Dean felt the weight and warmth of his torso leaning into him. He breathed in through his nose, enjoyed the way the air felt as it hit the back of his throat. Charged. Full. “The quote came later. After we lost some people. Just a way to tell ourselves that we weren’t backing down. We were in it. Together. No turning back.”

“So your first—but you have more right?” Dean nodded, turned his head and finally opened his eyes to meet Cas’s gaze. Cas smiled at him, eyes seeming to glow. Dean swallowed hard, watched as Cas—seeming in slow motion—hooked a leg over Dean’s body and slid into his lap. He smiled down at him, hands resting on his shoulders. “Okay with this?”

Dean could only nod marginally, holding his breath as he Cas’s hands skated down his chest and over his stomach, fingers catching in the hem of his t-shirt. Without being asked, Dean leaned up away from the sofa cushions, making it easier for Cas to tug the shirt up and over his head, drop it into the floor along with his flannel. He licked his lips, pressed his palm over Dean’s left pectoral. “Tell me about this one?”

“That one—“ His voice caught, breath thickened with emotion. He dropped his chin, looking even though he didn’t have to. Beneath Cas’s hand a partial American flag was inked in black and white, styled to look like it was being ripped out of the skin there and surrounded by droplets of ink meant to look like blood splatter. A chain tangled around the fabric holding three dog tags. Each was etched with a name, names stamped on Dean’s heart, in his soul, but names he’d wanted physical evidence of as well. Cas traced the plain block lettering that ran beneath.

“John 15:13.” He said into the silence. Dean swallowed, wet heat flashing in his eyes. “Greater love hath no man than this—“

“That a man lay down his life for his friends.” Dean finished, chest heaving beneath Cas’s touch. He hadn’t talked about them in so long that it surprised him that he wasn’t falling about. Not outwardly. Maybe not even inwardly. His brows pinched at that, his hands clenching into fists at Cas’s waist, fingers twisting the fabric of his shirt, bunching it in his hands. He turned his gaze to Cas’s face as he felt him, one by one, edge his finger tip over the names on those dog tags, over the thick black outline around each one. The black outline that represented the death of a soldier. The death of a comrade—a brother. He closed his eyes. Tried to breathe. Failed to breathe. Forgot to breathe as Cas’s mouth came down on top of his own.

Dean fell into the kiss like a dying man. His hands slipped around to Cas’s back, pulling him closer, pining him to his chest and he opened his mouth and Cas’s tongue slipped inside. He tasted like sweet tea and spice. Dean couldn’t get enough. A zing of pain buzzed through him as Cas closed his fists in his hair, grabbing, pulling, pushing—everything short ripping. Dean growled, bit the other man’s lips, plunged his tongue into the heat of his mouth, tasted more deeply, held on more tightly. He shoved his hands higher, pulling the shirt with them, barely breaking the kiss as he tugged it free and flung it away, dragged his nails along his spine to dig into the firmness of his ass.

Cas rocked forward, grinding down on Dean in a way that made them both groan. Dean’s stomach clenched at Cas’s erection dragging against his own, wanting it closer, wanting it on his bare skin. Cas was on the same path. His hands left Dean’s hair, found the button of his jeans and deftly opened them. It was a struggle to go beyond that. Neither man wanted to pull away from their current embrace, but Cas finally took control with a growl, tearing his mouth away and slipping out of Dean’s lap. He looked up at him from the floor, lips swollen and pouty. Dean levered his hands on the couch on either side of himself, used them to push himself up so that Cas could pull his pants and underwear down, bare his cock. He grinned wickedly.

“Cas…” Dean warned, trying to say that he shouldn’t do what he was thinking about doing. Not if he wanted this to last to any kind of—son of a bitch.

Cas’s mouth closed around Dean’s cock. White hot and dropping lower—lower—lower. “Fuck.” Dean panted, unable to watch as nearly his full length disappeared into his mouth--down his throat. “Fuck. Fuck. Fucking—“

“The point.” Cas mumbled around—wicked gleam dancing wildly in his eyes as he smirked around his mouthful. Feeling bold—Dean jabbed his hips upward and offered a satisfied smirk of his own as Cas gagged and pulled off. “No fair.”

“Serves you right, smart ass.” Dean teased, amazed at the display of control and togetherness. Inside—he was quaking. Cas stood up, hands working to open his jeans and kick them off. Of course he wasn’t wearing anything beneath. Dean groaned at the sight of him. The man had no damn right to be so beautiful. So big. Cas came down in his lap again, kissed him hard, wiped everything else out of his mind other than the feel of that kiss—the feel of his ass brushing Dean’s cock, his own pressing into Dean’s stomach.

“Want me?” Cas said into his mouth, words garbled by his tongue. His mouth trailed Dean’s jaw, nibbled his ear, sucked at his neck.

“Y-yeah. Want you.” Dean panted back. He had no idea where this was going. Hadn’t Cas said—“God damn.”

Cas’s hand—suddenly wet and Dean wasn’t even sure how—closed over his shaft, stroking deftly up and then down. Dean watched him lick his parted lips, watched two fingers disappear into them and reemerge slick with spit.

“Want you too, Dean.” Cas dropped his forehead onto Dean’s shoulder moaning as he—

“Cas.” Dean mewled the movement of Cas’s hand in his lap as he fingered himself open threatening to make him come before they got any further. “Castiel.”

“Mm. Love it when you say my name.” Cas bit his earlobe. He’s out of control, Dean thought to himself, Cas was completely out of control and damn if it wasn’t the hottest thing he had ever experienced in his life.

“Cas. Ti. El.” Dean panted. Cas lifted his head and crashed their mouth’s together. Dean—almost certain that he was missing too much oxygen to continue to live—cried out into his mouth as Cas lifted off of his lap and then sank down again, taking the head of Dean’s cock inside of him. “Fuck—Ca—aa—as.”

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yesyesyes.” Cas panted into his open mouth, sitting all the way back, abruptly engulfing his full length in tight heat. Dean choked on the noise of pleasure that rose up in his throat and he buried his face in Cas’s neck, trying to catch his breath as he started to rock in his lap. “Fuck, baby.” Cas panted, moving at a pace that wasn’t conducive to their mating lasting very long at all. “Feel good?”

“Mmmph.” Dean garbled, nails digging into Cas’s hips, his own rocking up in sharp thrusts to meet Cas at sporadic intervals. He had only been pleasuring himself for so long, hadn’t been with another person—and never like this—in so long that he knew he wasn’t going to last. He wanted to tell Cas to slow down, to just give him a second to collect himself—but Cas was moving even faster, rising and sinking so quickly that his ass was slapping against Dean’s thighs as their bodies connected. Dean, for want of something better to do, sank his teeth into Cas’s shoulder and cried out—giving the other man no time to react or pull away as he fell over a precipice of pleasure that had him nearly blacking out. He could barely make out Cas panting his name as he found his own pleasure, rocking twice more on Dean’s rapidly softening cock before slumping forward against his chest.

Dean was shaking, he couldn’t control it, didn’t try to, simply decided to let himself float back down until he could breathe and think straight. Cas was still breathing hard in his ear and he let his hands slide up his back, pulling him closer despite the mess clinging to both of their skin.

“Damn. Sorry that uh—didn’t last longer.” He remarked with a slight cringe. Cas huffed a laugh in his ear, shaking his head a little.

“It was good. All of it.” He shifted in Dean’s lap and they both groaned. “Getting grosser by the second.”

It was Dean’s turn to laugh. Cas leaned back and smirked at him. “Yeah…I didn’t realy give you a warning back there.”

“S’okay. My fault. I have condoms upstairs, just didn’t—didn’t think about it I guess.” He frowned at himself and then shrugged. “I mean not that—not that I think you—“

“No, I get it. I’m good though. I mean—I’d get, um checked if you wanted, but I haven’t—it’s been awhile so—I’m good.”

“Right. Yeah, just—responsibilities and all that.” Cas grinned at him and shrugged. “We should. Just to be safe—for next time. Cause that was—umph.”

He stood up and Dean winced because was there anything worse than rapidly cooling come? He didn’t think so. He looked toward Koda and made a face. “Poor thing. Didn’t know what she was in for.” She was still curled in the recliner, staring at the two of them with doleful eyes.

“Probably traumatized.” Cas teased. Dean followed him to the kitchen. Cas ran a bowl under the faucet and set it in the floor for Koda to find when she wanted it and then made himself a glass. Dean watched him drink, smiling to himself. Cas raised a brow. “What is it?”

“Hmm? Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugged, finally closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around Cas’s waist. “We just had sex.”

Cas’s throaty laugh was everything. Literally everything. Dean grinned more widely and nuzzled his face in the other man’s neck, sucking lightly as if he really couldn’t help it. “I was there. I remember.”

“It happened so fast.” Dean murmured, trailing open mouthed kisses to the bruising bite mark he’d left on Cas’s shoulder earlier. “We should go slower next time.”

“Slow is—“ Cas halted, words garbling on a groan as Dean trailed his mouth lower, bending slightly so he could flick the tip of his tongue against Cas’s nipple. “Slow is overrated. Fast—fast is good.”

“Mmm.” Dean agreed, teeth closing on pebbled flesh and tugging as he crowded Cas back against the counter. His braced his legs apart enough that he could get a good grip and lift—setting Cas’s bare ass against the marble and stepping close between his opened thighs. He was almost surprised by how quickly he was able to get hard again—almost, but not quite, not with Cas, this man who drove him utterly bonkers and made his blood sing. “Fast is good.”

Cas’s hands were in his hair and his tongue in his mouth before he could process that either of them were moving in that direction. He loved the way Cas kissed him—poured himself into it and petted his hair—like he wanted more and couldn’t get enough. Dean dug his fingers into Cas’s ass, pulling him forward on the counter, grinding their bodies together. He couldn’t even remember the conversation about next time or condoms upstairs or—nothing. He just wanted him. Wanted in him. Again and again and again.

“Fuck.” Cas hissed as Dean’s cock pushed against his ass. “Are we—ahhhhh, Dean.” Dean groaned, the heat of Cas’s body closing around him as he thrust his hips forward without any more hesitation. Cas only panted, arching his back, giving him a better angle and wrapping one leg around his hips. “Yeah, fuck, just like that.” He surged forward, connecting their mouths in a sloppy mix of teeth and tongue. Dean wanted it to last. If he kept up the pace he’d started—hips slapping hard against Cas’s ass as he drove inside of him—he wasn’t going to make it. He tried to slow down, to pull back, but Cas wouldn’t have it—he dragged him closer, taking up the rapid rhythm when Dean let it falter. “Don’t stop. Fuck me.”

“Cas..” Dean trailed off. It had been a mistake to look into the man’s face. Every bit of self control flew out the window at the sight of his flushed face, bared teeth, blue eyes wild with lust. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come. Again. Just sl—“

“No.” Cas insisted, body tightening around Dean’s cock, refusing to let him retreat. “Want it. Want you to. Now. Now. Dean! NOW!” So he did—and if Cas hadn’t been holding on to him so tightly and the solidness of the counter wasn’t there to catch his weight—Dean would have fallen. His legs buckled beneath him and slumped forward, bending Cas back under his weight and causing his head to clatter against the cabinet.

“Shit, sorry.” Cas only laughed. Dean frowned—he hadn’t finished and he didn’t seem to intend to—not here because when he seemed satisfied that Dean had recovered his wits he pushed against his chest and slid off the counter.

“Let’s go to bed.” He said, wicked light in his eyes as he grabbed Dean’s hand and pulled him along after him toward the stairs. “It’s my turn.”

Dean gulped.

 

*****

 

The walk upstairs was just long enough to have Dean’s stomach doing backflips and his legs shaking.Although both could have been leftover from the incredible sex they’d just had, but he strongly believed it was mostly nerves.

Cas’s room was at the end of the hall once they’d reached the second landing. Dean’s gaze flickered around, taking in the new environment. The walls were painted a soft cream color, offset by the deep blue of his bedcovers and the dark wood of the floor. The bed took up most of the space, a California king set in the middle of the wall directly across the from the doorway. To it’s left a door led into what Dean assumed was the bathroom and to it’s right a cushy arm chair sat beside the large picture window. His gaze flicked to Cas, who he found watching him.

“What’s the prognosis?” He asked teasingly. Dean shrugged, chewing his lip. Stall. Stall. Stall. Stall.

“What’s this paint color?” Cas laughed loudly, breaking the tether of tension in Dean’s chest. He pulled him to the end of the bed and pushed him onto it. His hands rested on either of Dean’s thighs. He traced a finger along the seam of his prosthetic. “May I?”

Dean nodded and cleared his throat. “Y-yeah. There is a release under the--under the edge of my sock.”

Cas peeled back his sock and pressed the latch on either side of Dean’s false ankle, the pin released and the leg slide off easily enough. Cas once again looked for confirmation, waiting for Dean’s nod before he peeled back the silicone sleeve and set both aside. Dean pressed his hands into the bed and used them to pull himself up its length toward the pillows. Cas joined him, an easy smile on his lips.

“You ok, Dean?” He settled next to him on the bed, propping himself on an elbow and trailing a hand across Dean’s chest.

“Yeah. I--yeah.” Dean turned his gaze toward him and rested a hand on top of his.

“We can slow down you know. Stop if you’d like.” Cas offered the words with a smirk, like he knew Dean wasn’t going to accept even before he shook his head. He sat up suddenly, swinging a leg over Dean’s waist and leaning down to steal a kiss. “Good. I have plans for you, Dean Winchester.”

“Oh, really?” Dean murmured, amusement lacing his words as Cas kissed him through the question. Cas nodded matter of factly and twirled his finger.

“Turn over.” Dean hesitated briefly so Cas nuzzled his ear in encouragement. “I want to make you feel good. Let me. Please?” He pouted prettily and with a little groan of trepidation, Dean rolled on to his stomach, Cas giving him the space to do so before straddling his thighs again. He leaned in close, lips flickering against the back of his neck and across his shoulders, dipping down to the hollow between he two blades. Dean drew a sharp breath as his mouth traced the final tattoo--the one that took up the entirety of his upper back. ‘Death before Dishonor’ stretched from shoulder to shoulder and in the shadow of that phrase four silhouettes, three standing and one kneeling at their feet. All four stood on the foundation of a second phrase. Don’t Let The Bastards Get You Down.

He held his breath, waiting for the same question Cas had asked in reference to the other two, but it never came. Only the brush of his lips across the skin, the exhale of air as his lips found the puckered scars of three bullet holes on the right side of his back and the whispered words. “You’ll carry that weight on your shoulders forever won’t you.” It wasn’t a question, so Dean didn’t answer. Only pressed his face into the pillow that smelled like Cas and soaked in the feeling of his lips as they traveled down his spine, the drag of tongue across the small of his back, and that playful little nip at his left butt cheek. Heat flared through him as Cas’s hands cupped his ass, squeezing lightly, thumbs hooking in the cleft and pressing outward. Dean was glad his face was hidden. No one had ever been this close to him. Not like that--not there.

“Shit.” He yelped into the pillow, hands fisting around the blankets as the flat of Cas’s tongue pressed against his taint, massaged it firmly and then moved upward in a long swipe, passing over his hole and then moved back down. Dean moaned as that intimate place became the focus of the other mans intentions. He’d never felt anything like it in his life, wondered why anyone would shy away from this incredible pleasure, thought--his mind went blank as Cas wrapped his lips around Dean’s pucker and sucked lightly, the firmed tip of his tongue tickling it’s way past the tight ring of muscle and then retreating.

“Like that?” Cas cooed, mouth making obscene noises as he worked over Dean’s hole. Dean looked back over his shoulder and promptly hid his face again. Oh, god. He must have spoken aloud if Cas’s satisfied chuckle was any indication. He protested with a soft mewl when the dark hair man pulled away. “Easy, baby. Just give me a second.” His mouth returned, accompanied by the gentle probing of spit slick fingertips. Dean groaned as one eased inside of him. He’d done it to himself a few times since their first night on the phone and Cas’s fingers, being slimmer than Dean’s, met with only slight resistance on it’s way inside. Still--it was different to finger himself and to have another man do it for him. He panted into the pillow, Cas finger sliding out and pushing back in, easing him open so slowly that Dean wanted to scream at him to go faster. He moved his ass back onto Cas’s hand and only then did the man add a second finger to the midst, drawing a long whining moan out past Dean’s lips.

“Yeah.” Dean whimpered, pushing back into the ministrations of Cas’s hand. He felt the heat of his mouth again, licking around his thrusting fingers. “Cas, please.” He panted, unsure of what he was begging for, but Cas knew. He moved up Dean’s body, fingers steadily fucking into him, and to Dean’s amazement, when he kissed him the taste of himself on Cas’s tongue sent a lightning bolt of arousal through him. So good. It was so good to taste himself in Cas’s mouth, to know that Cas wanted him enough that he was turned on by the taste too.

“Can you take it from here, baby?” Cas asked against his lips, drawing his fingers away from Dean’s ass and urging him to take up the movement with his own hand. He did as he was asked, blush stinging his face as Cas sat back on his haunches and watched for a brief moment before stretching out across the bed and taking something from the bedside table. He rolled a small bottle between his hands, tongue wetting his lips as he watched Dean’s fingers sliding in and out of himself. “Good, now let me see you.”

Dean, glad for the commands Cas was giving because he had no idea which direction to move this adventure, did as he was told, thrusting his cock abortively into the mattress at the moan of approval from his boyfriend’s mouth. He watched with bated breath as Cas poured liquid over three of his fingers--three!--and then moved back down, massaging Dean’s opening, working the lube slick digits inside. 

“Good. So good, Dean. Can you get on your back for me, baby?” When he had complied and Cas’s weight settled between his thighs, for some inexplicable reason, anxiety seized Dean’s chest. He tried not to let it get the best of him, but before he knew what was happening he had begun to hyperventilate and his vision was blurred at the edges. “Hey hey, you’re okay. I got you, you’re okay. Let’s try something else ok?”

He couldn’t explain the tears stinging his eyes as Cas held his body close and rolled them over in bed, bringing Dean on top and sliding up so that he was sitting, leaned against the headboard with Dean in his lap. He leaned their foreheads together and Dean sighed.

“S-sorry.”

“Nope. No apologizing. It’s okay. This is good with me. Is this good with you?” Dean adjusted his weight so that his good knee was supporting the majority of it and then nodded, biting his lip. He could breathe again now that he wasn’t pinned to the mattress and he smiled shyly at Cas.

“We can--I want to keep going.” His words were heavy, falling from his lips like stones, afraid Cas would say no.

“Me too. Only if you’re sure.” Cas’s eyes searched his own, looking for signs that he was bluffing. Dean kissed him deeply, enjoying the feel of Cas’s hands as they slide up his back and then down again the cup his ass, open him up, and line his entrance with the curve of Cas’s cock. “Just relax, okay? We’re gonna go slow.” Dean nodded, fingers digging into Cas’s shoulders for leverage as slowly, so very slowly, Cas eased inside. Green eyes flickered closed and his lips parted on a groan.

“Why are you so damn big?” He grunted, licking lips and panting as he shifted farther back on Cas’s cock, shoots of pain zipping through him as his body stretched to adjust to the intrusion. Cas chuckled warmly in his ear, his words strained through gritted teeth as he fought to control their mating.

“This is how the lord made me, Dean.” Dean grumbled a few words of protest and then moaned, eyes blinking open as his ass met Cas’s thighs and he was fully seated on that impossibly sized cock. Blue eyes stared into his. “Okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Dean breathed in deep and rocked forward, gasping at how good it felt to rise and then fall on Cas’s length. Cas, to his credit, let him figure it out. His hands rested lightly on Dean’s hips, supporting as much of his weight as he could and watching with wonder as Dean began to ride him. It was slow at first, the pain ebbing away into an easy pleasure that made Dean’s head fall back, lips part, and eyes flicker to the ceiling. “Mmmm, Cas. Mmmmmm.” He rolled his hips harder, clutching Cas closer to this chest, dropping open mouthed kisses and panting as the curving head of Cas’s cock jutted against his prostate and stars danced in his eyes. He wanted that wild abandon from downstairs. He wanted to be out of control--for Cas to be out of control. “Want you to fuck me.” Cas’s nostrils flared. “Want you on top. Please. Please, Cas. Fuck me, okay?”

Cas slid his hands around to cup Dean’s ass, gripping him hard as he lifted both of their weights up and onto his knees, spreading Dean out on the mattress beneath him, cock staying nestled in his depth the entire time. At first he kept his weight on his elbows, slowly rocking into the man beneath him, but Dean wasn’t having it.

“I’m not made of glass. Fuck. Me.” Dean growled, biting his mouth and wrapping his leg around Cas’s body. With a wicked grin Cas slammed into him, ripping a cry of pleasure from his chest. “Yeeees. Like that. So good. So good. So good.”

Dean couldn’t be sure what was coming out of his mouth, only that he couldn’t seem to stop the flow of words as their bodies intertwined on the bed and Cas gave him exactly what he’d asked for. He fucked him recklessly, the sounds of their coupling filling the air, a mix of the slapping sound of flesh against flesh, the heavy breathing and loud groans of either man, and even the occasional thud of the headboard hitting the wall. It was wild. It was rough. Dean could hardly believe it was his first time, could hardly believe that it felt like this. He’d been with countless women. Some he’d loved, some he’d only lusted, but this--it was like a piece was falling in to place that he had never realized was missing. It wasn’t finally having sex with a man--it was having sex with Cas. Cas was the thing had been missing all that time. Like his whole life he’d been searching for him and now--he’d found him.

Climax slammed into him in waves. Without ever once reaching for his cock, his back bowed up off the bed and his body erupted. He came so hard and so far up his own chest that had he tilted his head just right he probably could have caught it in his mouth. He cried out, body squeezing and tightening, making it almost impossible for Cas to move farther than an inch or so in either direction. But even that didn’t matter--he was there too. Dean’s name slipping repeatedly off his lips as he burrowed in his neck and his stuttering hips stilled and Dean learned what it felt like to be filled with someone else’s release. He held Cas closer, moaning into his hair, nails raking down his back as the ecstasy of it all washed over him and pulled him under.

When he came back to himself, Cas had already leaned up on his elbow, was stroking his face and smiling fondly at him. Dean felt something stupid happening to his face and Cas’s broadening grin confirmed it for him. “I can’t feel my legs.”

“You’ve just got the one.” Cas teased and Dean laughed loudly, leaning up to kiss him. “But yes--that was--fuck, amazing? Incredible? Ridiculous?”

“All of the above.” Dean was fading, all traces of energy draining from his body. Cas hadn’t even pulled out yet and he was falling asleep. The weight of the bed shifted and Dean barely noticed he was gone until he had returned with a warm wash cloth and was wiping it up Dean’s stomach and chest. “Mmm. Thanks.”

“Sleepy head.” Cas murmured, tucking him into the blankets. “It’s not even six o clock yet.”

“Your fault.” Dean replied, rolling toward the general direction of his voice. Cas’s hand found his own under the covers and their fingers twined. The soft brush of a kiss against his temple made him sigh, vaguely aware that Cas was saying something else, but he was too far gone. He was sated, sleepy, and he was safe. So he settled himself more deeply under the covers and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was better the first time I wrote it. But then my computer literally died and I had to buy a new one and nothing came out like I wanted it to, but I think it's still pretty ok :) you'll be happy to know I have part of the next chapter already written and there will probably be roughly 10 chapters after this one!
> 
> Thank you all for your comments, kudos, and reads. You are the real mvps!!!

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to note that I have no personal experience as a combat veteran nor have I suffered first hand from PTSD. ‘Good To You’ is a work of fiction based and embellished upon events someone close to me has recounted from their time served and what I have watch them struggle with since returning home. May God bless our veteran and active armed forces members <3


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